Dream (draft)



Dream: I’m standing in the enormous cave

described adroitly by Keats in Hyperion,

with the Titans, as they enact their version

of the Stygian Council. Saturn’s voice booms

forth in dismay. It gradually creeps into my

mind, as I watch his white, oozy beard tremble,

that hidden in the dark recesses of the cave,

opening out behind me— dark, eerie, intimidatingly

empty— that the Titans would have a better time

of it dealing with that primordial starkness, its

own ooze, then to try to fight their losing battle

against newer, more formidable Gods. Go into

the cave, come out a winner, peeps. Ride the

darkness into more darkness. Oceanus seems

to agree with me— he’s reasonable. As he displays

the wares of an elevated mind, I notice that

the Titans are scowling, rolling their eyes, being

infants. Oceanus sounds like an adult. And gets

greeted by no approbation whatsoever. The

cave behind me, unheard by the Titans, belches

in response. The understanding in the air of

who Oceanus is, is the resonance of the entire

cosmos, which also makes, audible to me,

a kind of belching noise. Clymene I refuse

to even stick around for. I run into the cave

behind me: it’s utterly dark. I send Oceanus

a silent wavelength that I’ll see him here later.

A voice from the cave signals me to understand

something: that nothing in here I will see

exists as fully as I do. Don’t expect fullness.

But if I can assimilate the craziness of what

turns up, I’ll be rewarded to have the Titans

serve as manservants to me for a ten-year

fling. Thea will even be my geisha girl.