The Mythopoeic nature of poetry is not, however, only revealed in the humanization of the inanimate or nonhuman, nor in the attribution of human sympathies to Nature; it is by no means equatable with the poets' frequent apparent belief in the unsatisfactorily termed Pathetic Fallacy. - from Skelton's The Poetic Pattern.
Skelton's thesis appeals to me in the way a justification of errant behavior appeals to the one who owns the behavior. To the one who repeatedly tells me that things do not always make sense, I say: "Let me create my myth to create my sense." To the ones who force a bold-lined boxed around tales and call that box "the One and Only Truth" let me say: "There are a million ways to tell that story." To Lorca who demanded mystery in the world both external and internal, I say: "Yes." To Keats and his Negative Capability, I say "Two and two don't always equal four. We know that, and we will find the other sums."
Now the term and sense of magical realism is adhering to a shell of poetic reason. Now my constant movement toward finding sense, even if that "sense" is the opposite of reason, makes sense.