On the other side
of Like A Rolling Stone,
way beyond
Once Upon A Time You Dressed So Fine,
behind that thin film
of silence,
letters scrapped all over The Waste Land,
well beyond The Streets Of Laredo

Yes, now that I ”have” all this time,
”busy” mounts
it's immaculate chores
that will etch the wonders of being
into rock bottom,
shine them all across my skull
as Like A Rolling Stone is presented,
channel by channel
years and decades later

Allen Ginsberg never got that medal
he begged so feverishly for,
as cancer ate him and his judgment down,
pound by pound,
Billy Clinton turning the other way,
his dick taken care of
by servants and young interns,
presidential semen splashing over their faces,
he considerately offering a napkin with his seal

I'd give Allen his medal any time, any day,
but his most desired and never acquired lover boy
left him a harmonium
and rode off
to pick up his Nobel Prize honors,
in wake of Like A Rolling Stone
and Do The Meditation Rock
for ever and ever
and no more