[ Poem for the archived archon ]
I keep starting and faltering starting and faltering I
approach the archive I read I lift my pen to speak and
f- f- f- falter again I am unused to the sound of my own
voice In a silent room it is the archons who have permission to speak
The documented the surveyed are silent and still
Objects to be observed written down preserved For
what purpose To preserve uphold the stories the myths
this state is founded upon Who and what
belongs where and to whom It isn ’ t what we ’ ve been
told When the archived become the archons whose house is it now
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