Robert Zimmerman = Bob Dylan.
How can this be? There was math
in Robert’s head. I have no biographical
knowledge, so I cannot call a conclusion–
or even hypothesize
what he meant when he told us
we would be stoned.
The women. They are from the rain.
The man lives on, literally,
an enigmatic poltergeist, a doppelganger
of the one who broke your heart,
an old man, an electric troubadour.
Well, it looks like I've majorly lapsed on the poem-a-day habit. Not to worry. I'm taking a short break to finish the Balkey story line....
“What,” the young, scarred and scabbed Scib said, “did Mr. Pin calm him – Bixson-” And Balkey closed the gap as soon as the word left the...
Tell him Coral has finally gone sour and the Pin is as crooked as we all thought,” fryed Balkey and eyed the straight and tall, the...