I’ve never seen a picture of Bob Dylan
as a baby girl but
who knows one day the photo may pop up
someone swearing on social media it’s Bobby
scowling at the camera in a blue bonnet
not giving a shit what we think
but don’t walk away
move to the city where a plastic blue tallis
covers up minions of tents every evening it’s
SRO under the highway
where bedroom doors open
to pigeons and pit-bulls
a home owner gets up at midnight
hands out acorns to red baby squirrels
with handwritten fortunes tucked inside
each one saying the roots of the tree.
It’s a performance piece.
He’s educating squirrels.
Not sure why this is a Father’s Day poem
or how Bob Dylan got into it
only how your absence eats at me
with a thick blue tongue.