Catlin Brown

This poem is a contemplation of Bob Dylan's Ballad of Hollis Brown. However, it is about the last Brown remaining, Catlin Brown. This poem has already been made into a song as well. As it should be.

CATLIN BROWN

Hazy afternoon spirits shudder, as they catch her drift.

The floorboards are hollow, this hallway is.

No smile to borrow, no laughing kids.

They’ll be back tomorrow, but what day is this?

And her sepia sky is never blue;

Her auburn hair always askew.

These are violent but silent days.

And there in the hollow, under the orange brown sky;

Her gaze she follows, to where Hollis Brown lies.

Deep in the abyss, of what yesterday hides;

She still hears his voice, at night when she cries.

With nowhere to run to, why go away…

And she dreams of leaving, to where she cannot say;

With nobody to say goodbye to, she might as well stay…

She loves the animals of the gloom, their calls in the twilight;

She adores the monsoon, the rain, when it obtains the skylight.

She hates her room, wants lightning to warm her skin and sear her eyes;

So bare on top of Hollis’ grave’s where she lies;

Begging darkness to dive ravenous, deep down into her thighs.

What cruel beauty illuminates her godforsaken world, the air gives off a scent of burnt pine, but it’s far.

So it won’t be tonight, and it won’t be today, and had that rope not ripped, oh sweetness, she’d already be gone, rottin’ away.

She remembers him as a time of day;

What a giving the good lord decided to take;

What decision, one cannot say;

Young Timmy Brown, from the outside of town…

Young Timmy Brown, from the cradle to the grave…

Forsaken, no one to deter her mind;

Every groan of that old house;

She takes as a sign.

Timmy’s room seemingly untouched…

Her womb was his tomb.

His bloom was his doom.

Bye-bye little Timmy…

The fields are a beach with no water heretofore;

From wife of a husband, to Babylonia’s w***e.

Goodnight Hollis Brown…

Life is her wretched refuse to his godforsaken shore; On the outside of town.

So her soft features have turned hard;

Her sweet breath sour.

A lost creature burnt and scarred…

No love to devour.

Something deep and far away.

Hidden, kept at bay…

Trialed, tasted and decayed.

Making its escape. In a world so close and warm…

And yet so far away.

Oh what heinous crime must she have committed?

One child, it left her flesh and crawled away.

With devil eyes and skin of clay.

In the dark he hides until this da.

A child left in the grit, lonely and omitted.

So is the word around town;

Withered old Catlin Brown;

Still resides westbound and down;

In that house;

Her hair dry as the fields;

Death, the only thing that’s real;

Nothing… the only thing she feels.

Betrayed by the lord;

His cruelty so divine.

She’ll never forgive;

She hopes to forget;

Yet when the sun sets;

She prays every time.

THE END

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