Bob Dylan

i'm standing there watching the parade

feeling combination of sloppy john estes. jayne mansfield. humphry bogart.

mortimer snerd. murph the smurf and so forth

erotic hitchhiker wearing japanese blanket. gets my attention by asking didn't he see me at this hootenanny down in puerto vallerta, mexico.

i say no you must be mistaken. I happen to be one of the Supremes

then he rips off his blankets an' suddenly becomes a middle-aged druggist. up for district attorney. he starts screaming at me you're the one. you're the one that's been causing all them riots over in vietnam. immediately turns t' a bunch of people an' says if elected, he'll have me electrocuted publicly on the fourth of july. i l ook around an' all these people he's talking to are carrying blowtorches

needless to say, I split fast go back t' the nice quiet country. am standing there writing WHAAT? on my favorite wall when who should pass by in a jet plane but my recording engineer "i'm here t' pick up you and your latest works of art. do you need help with anything?"

(pause)

my songs are written with the kettle drum in mind.

a touch of any anxious color. unmentionable. obvious. an' people perhaps like a soft brazilian singer . . . I have given up at making any attempt at perfection

the fact that the white house is filled with leaders that've never been t' the apollo theatre amazes me. why allen ginsberg was not chosen to read poetry at the inauguration boggles my mind.

if someone thinks norman mailer is more important than hank williams that's fine. i have no arguments an' never drink milk. i would rather model harmonica holders than discuss aztec anthropology

english literature. or history of the united nations. i accept chaos. I am not sure whether it accepts me. i know there're some people terrified of the bomb. but there are other people terrified t' be seen carrying a modern screen magazine. experience teaches that silence terrifies people the most . . . i am convinced that all souls have some superior t' deal with

like the school system, an invisible circle of which no one can think without consulting someone

in the face of this, responsibility

security, success means absolutely nothing . . . i would not want t' be bach. mozart. tolstoy. joe hill. gertrude stein or james dean

they are all dead. the Great books've been written. the Great sayings have all been said

I am about t'sketch You a picture of what goes on around here sometimes. though I don't understand too well myself what's really happening. i do know that we're all gonna die someday an' that no death has ever stopped the world. my poems are written in a rhythm of unpoetic distortion

divided by pierced ears. false eyelashes.

subtracted by people constantly torturing each other. with a melodic purring line of descriptive hollowness--seen at times through dark sunglasses

an' other forms of psychic explosion. a song is another that can walk by itself

i am called a songwriter. a poem is a naked person . . .

some people say that i am a poet

(end of pause)

an' so i answer my recording engineer

"yes. well i could use some help in getting this wall in the plane."