May 2, 2011

The Internet says Osama bin Laden is dead. Be it so. I hope the West doesn’t hand-wring too much about means and method. Hypocrisy is unbecoming. Half the earth is glad he’s dead. The other half should be ashamed of itself.

It was G flat this morning. Diving for the profundities.

Bill likes the Vance script– ecstatic about it, I might say, meekly. We suggested cast to each other. So that is one worry off my neck. I have an idea of whether it is good or bad but I have no idea how it will be received. Even some of the history wonks on the Board may have sharp words, for whenever there was a clash between history and art, art won. I falsified nothing; I invented much. Production of Vance is the worry that comes after Cambridge, but it is not, for the most part, my worry.

Even before I heard about Bin Laden I was fountaining forth poetry for the composers in New York who wanted a 9/11 poem. I must have felt it coming.

Strange feeling of suspension during the day, of lying half between two worlds, two duties. Nobody in England was answering their phones.