[New-Poetry] Dylan and Timrod

[Rsgwynn1 at cs.com]

Well, here it is:

Subterranean Timrod Blues

Sleep sweetly, martyrs
Men of the tall hearts
Now are NASCAR starters
Shopping in the Wal-Marts
See the pausing pilgrim
Cotton mill, sitting still
Say it's a bitter pill
Too much time to kill
Seeds of laurel
Looking for a quarrel
Fame is blown
Now you're on your own
Yet no marble column craves
Country ham to the bone
The man in the gimme cap
In the extreme zone
Needs a bunch of big bills
Small tributes, make a loan.

Blossom of your big fame 
Flowers in a red flame
Stoop, angels, hither
Watch magnolias wither
Shaft is in the stone
Blossom of your fame is blown
Leave that girl alone
Cooking up the cornpone
Seeds of laurel
It's your quarrel
No holier spot of ground
Can be found around
For a penny or a pound
Listen to the bugles sound
Where the graves abound
Every one a dirty mound
Somewhere waiting for its birth
By mourning beauty crowned

Stoop, angels, hither from
Bugle, fife, and drum
Some come, a small sum
Less than a single crumb
Shades will smile, meanwhile
Act smart, look dumb
Trust your storied tombs
And these memorial blooms
Seeds of laurel
You'll get a quarrel
Behalf the tardy years
Shedding lots of tears
Think about new careers
Crying in your beers
Where defeated valor lies
With teardrops in his eyes
Dreaming of General Lee
And the Confederacy

Small tributes but your shades
Shall overlook this bay
And somewhere, in the air
Is a Southern croix de guerre
Go a mile and see Stuckey
Buy pecans and get lucky
More proudly on these wreaths
Seeds of laurel
Here's a quarrel
Sisters bring their tears today
To overlook this bay
Rip a bag from Frito-Lay
Raise a ruckus, sing Olé!
Pilgrim here to pause
Better obey the laws
Don't ever fly the flag
It'll make them gag
‘Cause the symbol makes ‘em tremble



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