I DREAMT I WALKED WITH HISTORY
A. I dreamt I walked with History
Along sure paths already set and mapped;
I marched with confidence and courage, critical
But loyal and dependable
B. I followed my sweet mist-enshrouded mirage
Until it stopped,
And there beneath its shimmering heat I found
A dark nocturnal cavern, deep and wide,
Filled up top high with human bones and skulls,
Beneath the foetal, foetid sky.
A. I, who dreamed I walked down known, sure paths
With History,
Travelling triumphantly,
Inexorably,
The reservations made,
Down payments paid,
Safe-conducts guaranteed,
The destination sure and set,
Must now begin again!
Now I, vicarious power gone,
No Socialist Big Fatherland intact, go, if I go,
Since History's lost her wits,
Into the cold unmapped unknown,
Alone, along a steep and rocky road!
B. Pathfinding pioneer,
Camp follower no more!
I must walk with guilt and with uncertainty,
And play Poor Tom to mad, blind, wayward History.
Thus disabused, I reach my age of reason,
Know myself for what I am,
Attain my own full height at last:
Self-guided, I must cut new paths to other hills,
And there help build
Tangible, clean, real things.
Tangible, clean, honest things.
A. Ah, fuck it! Not me!— I'm off!
S. O. 1991
