For Bob Dylan With Love from Aly D

Blaring past the blues room 

by the down and out motel.

Dodge to give the muse room

(There’s an outline where he fell.)

Tell it to the newsroom—

ah, tell it to the wind: 

Your butterfly’s been fingered,

she’s had her sweater pinned. 

 

Robin, she was reckless

and so did refuse to nest

The jay birds were left breathless

by the copper in her breast.

The cuckoo, too, was feckless

but he could talk her talk:

Clucked, "If you're renting by the hour,"

"You oughta see my clock."

 

Wolves detecting fresh meat

left Mister Pig in sutures, 

when he went down to Wall Street 

to swap pork belly futures.

Inside trading wasn’t discreet

they slapped him on the block ...

chopped him into bullion, said:

 “Now he’s worth some stock.” 

 

Beat the weathered war drums.

Cry, “Every thing’s been fought!”

Wallow in the doldrums.

Aim, to take another shot.

Swallow to save your eardrums 

from the ricocheting din:

Vice has always been the virtue,

kindness, always been the sin.