We do not live up to our potential,
but neither does the city, the country,
the world. At the end of the day,
there's always a lot of unfinished business,
and certain smells that grow stronger
in the dark. A mixture of blood and earth,
clay and moonlight — they rouse sleepwalkers
and set them on their nocturnal errands.

What if everything were really run
by a secret cabal of superheroes?
What is it that turns history into
a comic book or costume drama — as if
we couldn't bear to believe it happened?

No, we didn't do it.
We were just watching TV,
counting our chickens,
gambling in the casino
of the stock market. It wasn't us.
We didn't pull the trigger.
We didn't drop the bomb.
We didn't assassinate that man we never met.