Talayotic

So one island population
In the Mediterranean,
In the Bronze Age, good with slingshots,

Notably avoidant of fish
Despite their sea-girt surroundings,
Eschewers of the potter’s wheel,

Managed to haul huge stones up ramps
To make large, t-shaped megaliths
That later peoples named taulas,

That is, tables, so-called because
Later peoples believed only
Giants could have made such structures

And must have used them for dining,
Since giants would surely prefer
To eat at giant-sized tables.

Stop there. What is it with people
Being so awestruck by themselves—
Again and again inventing

Wild stories about gods, giants,
Advanced, lost civilizations—
Incredulous that simple folks

Could have raised those statues, temples,
Aqueducts, highways, pyramids,
Etc., etc.?

Maybe there’s truth in such nonsense,
In that what populations learn
To accomplish thanks to language

And cultural inheritance
Exceeds what any brain could learn
From a single human lifetime,

And when a culture goes, that goes.
Plus, every culture has its own
Skills, which it takes as its birthright,

But is gobsmacked by the others.
How could they know how to do that
When they didn’t know our basics?

They must have been a giant race,
Or they must have had black magic,
Or maybe they were aliens.

Ask people why people are smart,
And they’ll rattle blather at you.
You don’t know what you are, do you?