Ulysses of the library

You could say that it was a dull story.

Yes, I gave you when, where, what

and at least I had a crack at why.

But not much actually happened. 

I was not like the action guy

whose brave deeds get the girl in the last shot.

The hero does not reflect much.

He does not need to. It's all instinct.

He goes in feet first, fists blazing.

 

His actions are driven by his gut.

His why, in the final analysis

does not stand up to much scrutiny.

At least you know something of my biography:

the beds I sweated in; the upside-down days

when rain pattered onto the rooftops

the frowsy sheets printed on my memory

the hopes and moods that impelled me.

I was the Ulysses of the library.