Oh, no, no, it ain't me you're looking for.
A marine biologist,
a cartoon artist,
an actress,
an activist,
a unicorn.
Those dreams fizzled as quickly as they were conceived.
The one and only true thing I wanted (and yeah, still want) deep down in my soul was to be a poet.
All of my historical idols have been poets in one form another.
Pound, Cummings, Cohen, Brautigan, Ginsberg, Atwood, Lennon,
Dylan.
Of all the poetry this beautiful world has to offer, Dylan's words have had the greatest impact on my life as an individual.
He's a poet in ways that can't be described.
His lyrical nuance, references to archaic literature, the simplicity, the complexity.
I feel like I have been waiting lifetimes for this moment.
Here today, is a re-imagining of Dylan.
Not necessarily for modern time.
Not necessarily as a woman.
But a just a little bit looser interpretation.
***
There's something about Dylan that keeps him in my mind at all times.
Parts of me wonder if he sold his soul to the Devil.
Parts of me wonder if God may actually exist- just based on his words alone.
Parts of me just plain wonder.
Parts of me have been molded by his poetry.
Parts of me have hated him.
All of me loves him.
And none of me would be what who I am if it weren't for him.
Thanks, Bob.
This one's for you, sir.
"I'll let you be in my dream if I can be in yours."
-Bob Dylan, Talkin' World War III Blues