by James Tighe
In the throes of a summer-into-fall drought
a pure blue October Mississippi sky shimmers on high
like an air-brushed false god
To the east Hurricane Matthew rolls north along Florida’s Atlantic coast
Dylan’s Love & Theft voice rasps through my open window
Dying grass underfoot is brittle as fallen autumn leaves
Staring at the sterile, cloudless sky while Dylan sings:
Only one thing I did wrong, stayed in Mississippi a day too long
which happens to be a line he plagiarized from my own unwritten theme song
Sometimes I wonder about the public figure Bob Dylan
and his long career as a composer and singer of songs
Is it just a job?
Does he rely on rhyme too much?
Does he ever get tired of being the coolest cat in the room?
Is he a prisoner of his art? As everyone is hostage to rainfall?
Soy bean growers like a dry harvest season
Sweet potato farmers don’t
North American Indians chant and dance
recalcitrant rainclouds into existence
Inuit peoples on winter Arctic nights
hold hands outside in a big circle and “whistle down” the Northern Lights 
