From Television City in Hollywood…

From Television City in Hollywood…

A Poem by Philip Gaber

Remember back in the day?

A poet would write a poem, and it said something?

Meant something?

We could make sense of it.

Explain its meaning.

Then along came Dylan.

He was having a drink with Keith Richards.

Keith was drinking Jack Daniels and smoking.

Dylan tried to bum a cig.

Keith said, “Just smoked my last one.”

Dylan said, “It’s all good,” went back to his motel room, and wrote a song about everyday necessities.

Meanwhile, Keith took out his guitar.

Tuned it to an open G.

Cut off the top string.

Sung a song about his grandfather, then fell asleep.

His mobile phone rang.

He was too drunk to answer it.

Dylan hung up the phone.

Turned on the TV.

PBS was featuring a Sam Shepard play.

Buried Child,

starring homeless people from Seattle.

Dylan played a D chord and began singing his latest song.

“Along came a guy named Chevy Ravine.

He was shriveled, ornery, and mean.

Mama Mary came home from her barback job.

Thinking she was a drunk and a slob.

She offered Dylan a cigarette, and he stopped singing the song

“Darling, could you quite possibly have a bong?”

She shook her head and started to cry.

She explained to him it was she who lied

about being his mother.

“No bother,” said Dylan.  “We’re all a little dead inside our boom-boom womb rooms.”

“Ah, my child,” and then she smiled. “Is there someplace else you’d rather be?”

“The only place I’d rather be is inside an Indian teepee.”

“But life is such a dilemma inside an Indian teepee.”

“Only if you’re not an Indian VIP.”

“I’m going,” Mama Mary said. “Going far from your Indian teepee.

Maybe as far as some deep, deep tree.

Goodbye, Master Bob, lonely boy.

Timothée Chalamet treated you like a toy in an antique record shop

With your latest hit going to the top of the pops.

But I’d rather see you sitting in a chair painting those Minnesota mountains.

The ones with the shadows of Woody Guthrie, who’s okay with you

Stealing his act.

© 2025 Philip Gaber


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Reviews

It's like mixed media and UFC

Posted 1 Month Ago


Ok, why isn't the entire item rhyming?

Posted 1 Month Ago


Jenny Lee, the answer to your inquiry below.

Posted 1 Month Ago


It's abstract and psychedelic. Melding of universes

Posted 1 Month Ago


Hello. Did they have mobile phones back then?

If you answer this, I'll ask another.

Posted 1 Month Ago


0 of 1 people found this review constructive.

I actually sleep pretty well but my brain doesn't. Thanks MSB

Posted 1 Month Ago


Philip you amaze me! But I do worry, do you sleep? Does your mind ever slow down? I really don’t know what to say about this poem except I’ve never read anything like it.

Posted 1 Month Ago



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Added on February 8, 2025
Last Updated on February 8, 2025

Author

Philip Gaber
Philip Gaber

Charlotte, NC



About
I hate writing biographies. I was one of those kids who rode a banana seat bike and watched Saturday morning cartoons and Soul Train. But my mother would never buy any of those sugary cereals for us k.. more..

Writing