Thursday, October 11, 2012

Ranting Bob Dylan on Patriot Day

Ranting Bob Dylan on Patriot Day
9/11/12 

Talkin’ New York
Reflections of refracting lights of yesterdays despite
A decade of American drama, times they are a-
Killings in buildings airplanes and billings
Invoices booming out cannons like God only uttered  

One way commandments to precious angels to conduct commerce
Starving and forming acids in stomachs
Haitian open sewers, earthquakes and skewers
Blue-eyed saints and brown-pupil paste children  

Hard rain refrains like ashes of American flags
Woody and Wilco sang from Beatle-bound rooftops
Crumbling extensions up make-shift patriot Francis poles
Wave to the prisoners in line for an iPod sold 

Out watching themselves streaming the numbers,
Of when the deal goes down;
Pensions and health care and armies of math
Marching on gates of drones bombing the path
Three thousands over two million  

3 is always bigger than a couple
Homeless and wondering, reflecting on refractions, drifting escape
Roosters and daylight, airplanes and headlines
She sleeps with a night-light now; daddy never made it out
Tombstone blues 

57th floor of Fallujah, the car garage in Kabul
Costs and price tags, UPC code for fear
Scan it, don’t think twice, accept the charge
Collect call to a generation not born yet  

Social security to mitigate fear
Of losing hair and penis, forever young, might as well throw in the television too
Bombastic broadcasts devoid of math, prisoners for masters of war
Freewheelin’ and dealing with existential questions while  

Munching on a ticker tape of a million no-ones
Gates of Eden are open in the arms of a farm
Got to get to work to stem the alarms, deduct this Hummer as if it’s a tractor
Section 179 dream hustling a Gospel plow, in my time of dying  

It sure as hell aint now; shelter from the shrapnel hurricane
I remember childhood of Nintendo and cold war Soviet games
Protestors tear gas, chimes of freedom, one of us must know
All I really want to do is let this all go 

Tangled for a cigarette; as if I was the object smoking
Decade and not yet satiated for fear; drink it up when my ship comes in
To communists and Cuban radical rebels, tambourine men and
One more cup of coffee from the kettle  

How many conversations on Highway 61,
Positively Wall Street at the Wal-Mart, to get walled out from heaven’s door
Things have changed; answer the rhetorical on desolation row
Einstein’s cursing bombs and Cinderella needs a dance partner 

Ophelia! my Ophelia! look at all the dead bodies
Covered in soot and rumbled watchtowers
CIA and Tweedle Dee, the levee’s gonna break
Everything is broken in a political world, 

Gave my love as property for Jesus
He gave it back on a slow train cattle car
We better talk this over to see if God is on our side
Growing opium in the mountains and the Russians got a black eye 

Two soldiers talking on a bank
Overlooking fields of thanks oiling in from the States
As only pawns in their game
Times have changed; Achilles ankle is / was cut 

See that my grave is kept clean 

No comments:

Post a Comment