We are a group of writers, thinkers, poets; some formed by institutions, or scorched by them, drop outs, truth-tellers, warriors. And fine, if you really want more concrete…

We’d like to tell you why we are here. Looking up at the sky, Bolaño thought of his friends as infrasoles—a term used by Soviet science-fiction writer, Goergy Gurevich’s, meaning blacksuns, or stars that despite their heat do not appear on anyone’s radar. They are invisible,  full of heat, and burning. 

That’s who we are trying to reach here, the invisible and burning.

Our lives are political, thus calling our art political is redundant and idiotic. Art, writing and life are one. 

We will work to renew the literary establishment so we no longer feel the need to explain and work against the gate-keeping approach to the arts.
We don’t want the establishment’s validation.
We’ve paid our dues, gave our life to language, our money even, and we demand to live from our work.
We will return art, specifically writing, to the “convulsive life” and demand that poets and writers engage with the social world. we are creating a platform that rejects the hegemonic “literary world” and creates an elitist illusion that depicts a writer as a lonely man struggling with language. Since credentials (like M.F.A titles) have become the norm, while the job market for that is non-existent:
We will uplift those who have not wished to or had the opportunity to submit to the current literary establishment while simultaneously uplifting them to the same kind of regard as M.F.A. holders. 
We will make no distinction between “high” and “low” diction. We welcome all languages.
We will create artistic communities of our dreams. By supporting each other, paying for our work and teaching locals to value writing emerging from their home places as a tool to connect with the world and social issues rather than as an isolated luxury.