Ashton Ave 1/4/2007

I.

First night waning moon
of the New Year
rises from hood of

dark cumulous hovering
over East Bay Hills . . .

last remnant of today’s early rain
still hanging there
against the nights demanding wind.

II.

First night in what seems like months
without narcotic football

and all the accompanyingly
vile America it reflects.

III.

How Long
O Lord How Long

must I be forced to press
the mute button to avoid

the awful sound of an angry
robot beating up a horned Dodge.

Or watch lymphmaniac Bill Walsh
lipsynch to a Coors Light commercial?

Guy Clark would never
do something like that. I devoutly hope.

IV.

Last year’s new Dylan (Modern Times)
on the turntable in

heavy vinyl . . . and Moriah
. . . the cat not the wind . . .

climbing all over the turntable
as threat to scratch hell out of
the best record I have.

V.

It would be a great record
if Bob Dylan had never existed.

Or at least a revenant
suggesting that

if Bob Dylan didn’t exist
we would have to invent him.

CODA “The cat thrown”

Moriah thrown from the appurtenance of stereo
goes hard at work on a golf pencil instead.