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
The reservations made,
Down payments paid,
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