PROLOGUE Poem by Aurélia Lassaque

She

All that follows is from profane memory

the poets reinvented everything

they needed a man
to upstage the gods
and, like any man
far from home
with much weeping
to curse the wine-dark sea
and tear at his face

when the poet died
ten took his place and rewrote the story

and so man created the myth


i nailed hope to the four walls of my cell

there is no land more vast than memory
i hollowed out its mountains, drained its rivers
searched among the stones of all its ramparts
waiting for my errant lover to return

the man who rallies your voices
endures your deliriums
and wears every mask
the man you call Ulysses