Bob Dylan's Sonnet
Hey Bob Dylan, I wrote you a poem
About a long and winding road I once took home
In my Spanish leather boots I strolled
Avoiding routes perversely tolled
I walked along a forest with only one tree
I walked through a lake as small as a pea
Where the fish bit my ankles and the seaweed
strangled
The tree branches where the black
crows tangoed
A bay of black diamonds and other desires
Diamonds pressured by a world at war and
dreams tired
I saw white blood splattered on black train
tracks
A circus train passed filled with no acts
I met a love named Sara sheltered from the
storm
Her sisters Lily and Rosemary played their
horns
I saw stoned outlaws weary of the idiot wind
A sad lady from the lowlands and her husband
thin
A man of constant sorrow, will my home ever be
found?
The sign for Margaret’s farm I’ve seen four
times around
A path, a direction towards home’s salvation
Passed Joey’s restaurant and those who the executioner is erasin'
So many miles on this desolate row
A road, a highway 61 owned by the ugliest of
foes
Simple fate and its changing time
Who collect the rain buckets and coerce the
sun to blind
Blind and wet and aged and spent I finally
found my way
In the tall brown grass of my lawn I lay
Neglected and scorned
Exhausted, reflective, sleepy, and forlorn
...
...
To walk freewheelin’ along those blood soiled
tracks
To bring my love back home where we begun
And believe that we could love not act
Her sullen black hair now dyed a brightly
blonde
Her heart as bright as the night
A love hot like Fall when it absconds
The day bitter refusing to fight
Dreaming of love and things not to be seen
Wishing I did not admire the neck in the
guillotine
