Dylan T. Poem by Jacqui Thewless
Dylan T.
I was twelve years old.
The one-man band from Duluth
with harmonica
blowing in the wind. Not you, true
boyo
destined
to die forever
young;
a few of us
kids brought your into-
nations back to life
on Saturdays after classes
at the Dundee Rep.
The others read.
Fumbling into love
with consonants and tones,
the idea of Wales
suddenly began to regurgitate a mouth -
organ for blowing raspberries
and getting lost and passionate, and all
without even knowing
I had swallowed
Llandudno
at the age of two.
Another cracker Jacqui: -) . I think the man would approve of his epitath '...true boyo, destimed to die forever young'. He may have raged against his fate, but not the memory celebrated here. For me, the effect is of images clear, but unfathomable - reflections in a deep pool. Look forward to more...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 6:31:57 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I went to Llandudno when I was a young woman.Also I enjoy some of Dylan Thomas.