Bob Dylan: Haiku 61 Revisited: March 2010

Thursday, March 18, 2010

Your husband, that drip,
Traps you in bourgeois cages.
He's SO not worth it.

Here's a bizarre tale:
Bob hangs wash, talks to some guy,
Goes back in the house.

One confusing tale,
Too many plots to follow.
Bank heist, heartache, death.

Go ahead, tease the
Jesus freak. But keep in mind,
His name is "Dylan."

Dylan's tongue, your throat.
Three other dudes get to watch.
Good-time rock n' roll!

Bob, Bono and gang
Get sanctimonious
On this U2 song.

Bob wants you in bed.
He's got balls and beds of brass.
You're lying on them.

Dylan offers you
Several ways you can rock him.
Why not try some out?

Diamond Joe's buddy
Thinks "fun" means rootin'-tootin'
Lootin' an' shootin'

Your secret lover
Has unwanted facial hair
And a big, red car.

There's no arguing
And little more to tell you
With titles like that

Bob wants one more drink
Before he drives himself home.
Watch out for cops, Bob.

Bob's like most rock stars.
He got the cocaine running
All around his brain.

Holy Roller Bob
Can't match Caribbean girl's
Graham-Greene-life story.

An Altmanesque cast
In Irwin Allen's "Earthquake."
They die in the end.

Bob leaves a lover
Who can't face reality.
So it goes, baby.

Bob knows so little.
He asks where the answers are.
He has a strong hunch.