Thursday, May 20, 2021

THINK the coffee shop down the block from me just last week opened up the little tables inside. I’m not a real big coffee person, but I get my thermos filled with black coffee and sit at one of the small tables that has an empty-for-distancing-reasons table next to me. Some familiar types are back. Art student types. And older folks like me who envy them their youth and dreams and their notebooks. I have been going into the shop for the three or four years it’s been open. But I always went after I’d held my sign on weekdays. It’s different for me this way with no sign. I miss the mission I had. It made the coffee taste better. 

Tuesday, May 18, 2021


I had a dream last 


that was real to me—

I never dream of monsters or

scary cliffs—

as real as any.

The light in the busy place

was tavern perfect and

the people were tavern people but

they were all dressed just a bit better.

I was there living or staying in 

one of the booths

though I wasn’t drinking—

I don’t anymore in my waking life either—

and the owner of my old favorite bar

was in there but he was

sitting in a straight-back chair in

the window to the right of the door

like a mannequin.

He didn’t have a pint in his hand.

He was looking for someone who

he was expecting it seemed.

He was going away soon

maybe a trip back to his Ireland.

I felt a bit neglected by him. 

We usually talked.

A very tall woman I don’t know in real life

smiled at me real close like in a fisheye lens

as she walked by me sideways

through the people towards the door.

Monday, May 17, 2021

I got the book yesterday. The early pages are very good reading. The writer has a very smart, smart-ass, deep knowledge of Bob Dylan. This is not his first book on him. Here’s a Rolling Stone conversation with him about this 500+ page book which only goes up to 1966. He’s working on the other years now: