Scene One—
in the near permanently
beige light
which hovers
around the rectory
at year's end,
a man is sitting
in glum hard soles
at the kitchen table,
hooked like a sliver
over coffee
cups and notebooks—
fretting over
the sermon's climax,
worried
about his credibility,
mumbling to himself
that it's absolute heresy
how
Bringing It All Back Home
is probably his favorite
album of Dylan's—
but almost entirely
because of the acoustic side.
