Somewhere between the avenues
And alleys of your childhood
You’ll find yourself. Ah,
Scratch that. The way you keep
Living after death makes more
Sense held up to the light. Make
It more sentimental past the point
Of recognition. Eventually all
Feelings blur with sap and gasoline.
"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.