Mythology

Tell me what to desire;
Instruct me in mad distraction.
The more fantastical the trick, the more I applaud.
I see not the thing, but the idea.
The deep strange story resurfaces in glimmering parts
To drive us to our ends;
Each action is a phantom of itself,
The silhouettes of metaphors
Playing puppet epics on a screen.
The television speaks to me,
So far from real feeling, real life.
The newsreader, sober and friendly,
Utters objective truth to the tribe,
Hypnotizing like a snake.
What beauty our ingenious deceptions disrupt
We do not comprehend;
All we see is numbers, almighty facts,
Power growing with voracious greed,
Assuring us of its benefits.
Money-magic raises golems and servitors
To beguile the hooded mind,
The corporations of mountebank alchemists.
Time coming, pasing, going, being spent, being wasted,
Ahead or behind, approaching, flying by,
All I am is past,the offices of memory,
Fighting the not-me, the evil.
The noun instigates the verb,
Something or someone has to be there
To set things in motion,
Otherwise there is nothing,
Which cannot be.