new old kid on the blog,
with an occasional
old or new poem written off
the old writer's block
Great stuff. Everybody must get (tomb)stoned....
met Bob's brother in The City (we had some beers at that pub on the corner of 2 nd ave and Houston ("HOW STON" or "HOUSE-TON")about 197 or so.I was wearing my pointy Beatle Boots... and David, who was their in New York recording someting with his brothe (or of his brother)and he said: "My brother wears boots just like those"I said: "well he can have these... they hurt my feet. Then he'll have two pairs."he replied: "they hurt his feet too.""who's your brother?""Bob Zimmerman.""never heard of him.""He calls himself 'Bob Dylan' now."
Wild Bill,Far out, brother!Ed,I guess Dylan's boots were made for walkin' and trippin' and not ridin'! Great little story.