To search for the real, to know
it when you find it, listening to Dylan,
going on the road with Kerouac, picking
your way though Whitman’s Leaves, or
tearing up somewhere deep in Ginsberg’s
“Howl,” embracing your lover or perhaps
meeting a stranger in a distant place who
sees the world though eyes you thought were
yours  alone, maybe even finding it in your
class one rainy Tuesday afternoon, when
you ask a question, but not the one you
meant to, which some kid answers
differently than she intended, and class-
room walls fall away, clocks vanish, all
ticking ceases, heads rise, the air growing
still as a portent, as we sit there hearing
things that startle, like surprises given on
birthdays long forgotten, these words that
are not enrolled in a building called school,
that carry us thousands of miles beyond,
just a dappled moment…and suddenly
we’re walking a fiery trail
across the sky.

After watching a film about Dylan
December 1, 2007


All written material © Bill Schechter, 2016
Contact Bill Schechter