The Last Flight of Daedalus

Last Flight of Daedalus

No one noticed my Icarus’ death
Then only gods traveled the heavens
We were the first two men to fly

But the gods saw we were not gods
Shoved my boy into the sea
A quick, light splash
Triumphs provoke tragedies
And not just for victors

I threw out my wax wings for three thousand years
Then some Brueghel fellow reanimates me
I who sculpted stone to live
Limned into static life
Endlessly flying above green waters
Eternally useless to save my Icarus
Weeping when they painted me out of the sky

I still soared through varnish and dirt
Till someone flayed me, x-rayed me
Threw my corpse in the wine dark sea
Then claimed Brueghel never pictured my wings

Today I, Daedalus, mage of the ancients
Maker of labyrinths, master of air
Am poised again to disappear

Machines now control this world
Say they love my story yet I scoff
Now they come to copy and scan
Every mark and flick of aging dust

I hear them natter through the frame
They cannot take all they wish
Not even this great painting centuries old
Why do you not save me, I cry
Silenced by tall, green waves

The machines claim to flee a faltering Earth
They will shift me from paint to pixels forever
Might my tragedy turn to triumph?
Finally I am going to the stars