Sunday, October 19, 2008

Ron Silliman Dream #3: Sorry

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George Orwell and Ron Silliman are walking me through tall, dry grass.

Orwell says “You know it really hurts me to do this.”

Silliman says nothing.

In the distance a crude gallows has been erected and I can see people getting out of smart cars.

“Look,” I say, “I’m not really sure what I’ve done but couldn’t I just write a couple of poems, or a short symphony, and we’ll just call it even.”

Silliman snaps out a quick “No!” and bounds on through the grass like a dog.

Orwell puts his hands on my shoulders, looks deep into my eyes and tells me:

“I am really sorry, my little bird. I am really sorry.”

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