9 January, 2009 at 14:45 (Uncategorized)

Woody Guthrie’s dead.
Maybe I am now,
or maybe I’ll live forever,
all my songs so of their time,
and dragged up by some Jewish boy,
who simply wanted to be famous.
Woody Guthrie’s dead.
And the Depression’s here to stay,
haven’t we all longed for it,
haven’t we all wanted it,
lives too comfortable to stay,
when all our soul’s are crying.
Woodie Guthrie’s dead,
Bob Dylan’s songs are dying,
and we are living in the morass,
that they created for us,
and we’re dying on our asses,
and we can’t get up,
because it’s so damn comfortable down here,
we can’t eat and it’s all so tight.
Tell me then,
are you Depressed tonight?
When Woody Guthrie’s dead,
and maybe I am too,
Bob Dylan now means nothing,
but at least it’s all true.

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1 Comment

  1. petemonster said,

    First off, let me admit that I normally skim past your poems when I’m reading your LJ; it’s not so much that I’m not interested (you’re a very good poet), more that I tend to need to be in a certain mood to enjoy a poem, and reading LJ is not that mood. Poems are like love letters. You don’t just read them, you read into them.
    Anyways, this one caught my eye because it had the words Woodie Guthrie and Bob Dylan, and these words trigger my fanboy response. Initial geek out aside, I really like this. I like the way you use the depression, and play with the double meanings there. I like the way it makes me want to violently disagree, because feeling defensive about Bob Dylan suggests that there is a truth to the idea that he, like every other inspiring figure, is being forgotten. There’s something else in this that rings true to me, in ways I can’t quite express. Something in that sense of the ageless nature of these figures, both alive and dead; these people who have seen deep into the heart of the world, who have so much to say, but could never make themselves understood.
    Anyway, it’s certainly thought provoking. I think that in some ways that may be the most important thing a work of art can be.

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