switched on the bulb but nothing
no electricity since morning
sat on the front porch
got Dylan singing again
Ballads of a Thin Man
Sara Sara o Sara
Hard rain’s A gonna Fall
the thin man is back again
I pull out an imaginary cigar from one pocket
and a revolver from another
I shoot myself first and then,
I shoot that strange bird
perched on an electric wire
and I miss the shot and the bird
flies off to a tall tree with curly hairs
but it doesn’t matter
it doesn’t matter
I am dead already
but the bird is still there,
talking bogus to the still winds.
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