It was actually before
Hercules went mad that he
needed to get past Atlas
Mountain to get the Geryon
cattle (of the sun) so he
tore Atlas apart so the
water burst from Ocean
and became the inland sea
aka Mediterranean
that was
all procedural
When I look down on the Chicago River
or the quarries beside it
toward O’Hare
it’s easier to see a monster tear
the land and water down
than think of decisions
and wages (garbage)
just as
if on a nondestroyed Earth the future
entities are astronauts they’ll
imagine myth on a mono/cosmic scale
unless it flips and a swarm
of lights appears and children think
the stars are workers every
light a thousand
workers each
swirl a common concert
I
blame Hercules the entity
the literal historical Hercules
We are crazy • we are dangerous
"The poet is of no party." BaudelaireOur manifesto is an act of substantiation.
We reject all forms of futilitarianism, in whatever disguise.
We believe that comedy is the song of the village and tragedy the song of the goat.
We believe what is written in the books, but now we want to see for ourselves.
The single idea, beating on the same doors in vain.
The analogue and the invention.
The death cell.
The first permission.
Though we watch the stage for things to happen, though our minds wander.
By ourselves in the green field, playing our diversion.
Though the story begins with the loss of a home.
Out of the machine, we shift restlessly in our seats.