The Present was Grim & the Future Looked Worse
A hundred times during the day I felt the young man’s
eyes upon me. The tentacles of the Octopus are sensitive
& can distinguish rough from smooth, heavy from light.
I do not remember how I got home, hours & hours later,
but sure enough there was the Jolly Roger, anchored in
the bay, the black flag of piracy flying from her mast.
Within the context of the time he was saying the unsayable,
but suddenly, to say the unsayable was possible, even
desirable. I do not remember how I came to be at home.
I was the first to write & every day I gave my work to a young
woman to type up neatly. The soft sheen, the superb gilding,
not to mention the centuries of wisdom the books contained.
The pressure of population eased off & there followed a retreat
from the marginal lands. Sometimes the curse merged into
elaborate ritual magic. ‘He’s a bloody pirate, a scallywag’.
At the castle the pirates were simply proving too strong.
Sheep, tolerant of humans to the point of boredom, moved
desultorily out of the way. Soon they were completely estranged.
The next thing I laid hold of was a brace of pistols & as I already
had a powder-horn & bullets I felt myself well supplied with arms.
I do not remember how I got home, hours & hours later.
Although we still retain a concept of memory in the deep,
collective sense, the new technologies change the nature of
the memorial process. I do not remember how I got home.
Treasure had transformed the Spanish Empire & heightened
its flaws. Now consider what happens when the bell rings just
before the food is presented. The summer enveloped us all.
The summer enveloped us all. In a country submerged in
nostalgia, this was a serious breach of etiquette. The illicit
part of me was now as voracious as my mouth had been.
Poor Poe, perennially broke & often drunk, seemed ideally
suited for the role.
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