How the Dead Dream
So I recently read How the Dead Dream, by Lydia Millet. First piece of actual literature I’ve read in a while – and it was intense, sad, wistful, and ultimately satisfying. My awesome friend Sarah, started an online book club – and this is the first selection. I’ve already posted my comments about it on her blog, so I won’t go into details here – but it spoke to me on several levels. The other book I’m still reading is Poemcrazy by Susan Woolbridge – I’m actually rereading it – I love it so much and can open it to any page to get a little inspiration to get me through the day.
So here’s by piece inspired by both of these books – it’s a little dark so I’m placing it behind the break – if you don’t like seeing dead things don’t go any further…
Ok, if you made it through here it goes:
little shell – do you see me?
does your soul feel my compassion,
can your husk hear me weeping,
take care little shell
i bid you peace
-and dreams of ocean blue skies
This poor bird was tied to the bars of one of the cells at the old state pen – this was in the area where the really bad stuff in the riot went down – things I can barely stand to think about. It was already a spook-filled place – and this little creature’s death was more than I cared to see – but I did. His tether was rather long with lots of room to move about – I can imagine him flying back and forth – trying to break free.
