Of Cities and Citybred Monsters
By © E. Antons
Benjamiņš, 2017
It has come to be that the
atheist-controlled community of government has become the fake Godhead over the
community of Nature. Likewise, government has made itself to become the People.
The
Great Grandson of God (a play)
(A
retelling of the story of King Oedipus)
Episode
5
Guard:
Here, King,
Is your elkherd!
We found him hiding
In the hollow
Of a linden tree
By the outhouse
At the edge
of the wood.
King
Oedipus:
What a sack
of bones.
It looks like he
is doing
himself dead
No matter.
All I want is
is his memory implant.
Where did
The palace police
put the chip, old man?!
The nape of your neck
Or behind your navel?
Do I hear from you now
Or wait for the chip.
The mortitians
Ought be able
to retrieve it
In no time.
Strophe:
Everyone in Thebes
knows John.
When young, he was
known for having
the biggest dick
in town.
Even the Queen
is said to have wanted
to play with it.
A herder turned carpenter,
John could gain entry
Into almost
every apartment.
Many a bench, table,
And desk in Thebes
Is his handiwork.
Many a mother
(child eaten by Sphinx,
Husband sterilized
By city waters)
Resurrected their
asphiNxiated
children
By wombs
Come to embrace
John’s gift
from God.
John is now
Making amends
For such trespasses
As happened
his way.
As the Savior Kings
of the woods
Used to say—
“there is no afterlife,
But life is
A continual dream.”
Though the King
Today eats meat,
And preaches progress,
John still
calls Thebes
Jerusalem,
the city of yesteryear,
a city of lambs.
Antistrosphe:
Today death
comes when it will.
We no longer
are given time to
caress the hands
That once caressed us.
Parents die
Absent their children.
Death is fled
From our memories
God knows where,
dream no more.
King
Oedipus:
(turning to messenger and pointing to John)
Is this the man
You had in mind?
Is he the herder who
Refused to
become hunter
And collect taxes
For Thebes?
Messenger:
I recognize him.
King
Oedipus:
What’s your name,
Old man?
Did you ever herd
The livestock
Of King Laius?
John:
That was way
Back in time
and miles from here.
It was when
I was playing
The herder’s flute
On Mt. Citheron.
It was before
Savior Kings
Had become People
And God was
No more.
King
Oedipus:
Have you ever
Met the man
Who stands next to me?
John:
I cannot tell.
My memory
Has taken a spell.
Perhaps if the dust
About him
were to turn
and smell
of rosemary,
I will
Come to remember.
Messenger:
Savior King,
it was a time
past memory.
Dreams indeed fade
As evening shade
And fog fades
And erase
Both stock
And meadow.
Even so,
John knew the meadows
On Mt. Citheron
Better than I.
We once
herded our livestocks
Right next to each other.
He was older than I.
He was my mentor
For three years on.
When winter came,
We drove our herds
To the barns
Of our respective kings.
John:
May the wind
sweep you
down the mountain.
Did I give
you permission
To speak for me?
King
Oedipus:
Did you ever
hand this man
a child?
That child was I.
John:
Faces change.
Some men grow beards.
Pretty girls
Lose pretty faces.
Some of us
for lack of wisdom
(not for lack of reason)
Come to look
like fools.
King
Oedipus:
(to messenger)
If your friend continues
thus,
I will have his
jaw bound
To his forehead
And his tongue
Will speak
never again.
John:
If a king refuses
To face the unknown
And give up life
for his people—
Who are the people,
but stray hyenas
at the carcass
of a God
who never was?
Why should I,
a carpenter, a shepherd,
or for that matter
a soldier
die
In a king’s stead?
Am I your Creator
and Savior?
There used to be
a time
When Kings were Gods.
That was when
The people
made home in the wood
and each was
his own master.
Alas! Now Thebes is
a city of fools
pretending to be
a God who is
Greater than God?
May a flood bury Thebes.
May birches grow
O’er Thebes ruins.
King
Oedipus:
It appears
this bag of bones
was birthed
By a she-goat
Buffing her but
Against a fence post!
John:
I am of holy Thebes.
Not some
gasoline burping
City of thieves
Skinned by taxes,
And doped mindless
By henbane beer.
I am not of government
robbing
the Earth blind.
King
Oedipus:
Where did you find me?
Was I of a whore
Or a Prince?
Did a braid of reeds
or a wire of gold
Bind my feet?
John:
Thebes is filled
With whores:
Women indifferent
to men.
For all that
Their legs
Are ever torn open
By men
And children
Born dead.
Thebe’s burial ground
Has become a
whorehouse floor.
Yes, it was a wire
of gold
That fastened you
To the crib and altar.
King
Oedipus:
Whose child was I?
John:
I passed you on—
You were not mine.
King
Oedipus:
Who were my parents?
Is it someone hereabout?
John:
If you were God
You would know.
If you are
of a mere King
You are lost.
It would have
been better
That wolves
Had taken you.
Why should I believe
You to be King or God?
I am a pensioner,
Not a punk,
Wearing waspish
sunglasses.
My forebears home
Has been turned
by you and yours
Into wormwood.
King
Oedipus:
Consider yourself
As good as dead.
John:
If you kill me,
It is you
Who are dead first.
Only fools
Will ever claim
Your body.
Mine will be leaven
From which
comes bread.
King
Oedipus:
You are suicidal, John.
John:
Speak for yourself.
I will not support
your wars
either on mine
or on wood.
King
Oedipus:
I have humored you
Long enough.
Guards! Come,
Be worthy of Brussels!
Twist this fool’s arm.
Let me hear
Him beg for mercy.
John:
Are you drunk
In Beijing’s gutters,
Or chewing coca leaves?
King
Oedipus:
Guards! Do it!
John:
No! No! Wait!
I will tell you
Something
That will make you
Die laughing:
That wire of gold
That bound your legs,
I gave
to your mother,
The woman you married.
The Queen of your court.
The Queen of Babylon.
