i was thinking about Bob Dylan’s “talkin' world war III blues” (lyrics, recording) from 1963’s “The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan”. the song ends,
Well, now time passed and now it seems
Everybody’s having them dreams
Everybody sees themselves
Walkin’ around with no one else
Half of the people can be part right all of the time
Some of the people can be all right part of the time
But all of the people can’t be all right all of the time
I think Abraham Lincoln said that
“I’ll let you be in my dreams if I can be in yours”
I said that
and the last few lines were stuck in my head. or i was puzzling around that turn, the deal of dreams. which it struck me is a fundament of poetry, the deal of dreams, whereas world war III is a war of dreams.
one result of my preoccupation was a trio of dream poems: “wild bird caught in an accidental cage”, “revving vibrators”, and “i saw you dreaming, painted”. then one in hyperverse, “like sifting through guitars”. hyperverse are these compositions built out of hyperlinks to the writing of others. i find it very fulfilling, putting these together, which are basically a postroll edited into a semblance of poetic verse… poetry that opens literal links into other worlds. thanks to Bob, and to everyone else who shares velvety words with the internet. your dreams are amazing. i am moved by you.
related, here’s Bob’s later song about dreams, “a series of dreams”. and here’s Bob’s grouchy response to something adjacent and yet opposite the deal of dreams, the Judas accusation. — “play it fucking loud”.
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