Dylan says a poem is a naked person/ he says he accepts chaos an so do i/ i want to sue him/ it was my idea first/ i accept chaos for what it is an not a nickel more... maybe a penny more but not under any circumstances a nickel/tomorrow i'll awake an feel better but until tomorrow there is today/masturbation is bad for you an i wish no harm upon the pope/please remember the obvious strangers/ you can know all of them with one glance/ i want t run to some new place/ just for the people/ scenery does not impress me/ humanity does/ i want t take a bath... but i've taken three already today an they were quite unsuccessful/ no ideas poured out/ no comfort found/ no bubbles goddamnit/ "who guards the light at the end of the tunnel?" the blowtorch-holding, god-fearing, mother asks me/ an i tell her "i do, miss"/ it's the truth too/ guarding the light is my job/ but i got bored so i left an never came back/ i'm unsure who's taken over/ maybe nobody/ it does not matter/ we'll adress that when we come t it/ for now let's pick up our geetars and tell eachother the world/ the world and chaos can have my child if it wants t/ WHAAAT? an i wish no harm upon you, however i'm fine by myself forever
I love you too, Meg. At a time I was tempted t put you into a poem of mine, had a thought of making you into my proudest character but I was too afraid I wouldn't do you justice so I pushed the thought away.
