Saturday, 12 June 2021

a dirge for dylan

a dirge for dylan 


lights grew in the curled poet round

who said such things in a bloody town

and long may those ways abound

that set for the future the past laid down


all the bent of youth abound

to say the points of order of those days

and proudly push the lines around

with pencils that mapped the many ways


that certitude cuddled in muddled beer

that blew the smoke rings wet and bar

none were raised in laughing cheers

for the man of words had turned the far


pavilions of the chewed and crowded words

intoxicated by the juice of lines

flowing rancid were the morning lords

of misruled nights and many spitting tines


that raked the cockled bays to feed

and filter meaning of vagabond thought

to twist the tail of the devil led

to a magic flowing yet costly bought


by a soul sold to the devil-cultured verse

paid by age laid down far too soon

the winsome knife on which the hearse

fell swift and buried crossed and white by moon

and all still genuflect to youth laid down

by a poet from that ugly lovely seaside town





 

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