PARODY Poem: BOB DYLAN’S NOBEL BLUES, by John Maley

Bob Dylan won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2016 but was late to
the party

A thousand weary wordsmiths cried in the winter of their years
He’s not an actual writer they appealed through their tears
Other scribes sang in a sycophantic style
If you want to know what Dylan thinks you may just wait a while

They said he was on tour today and that he could not be reached
No man is an island but this one can’t be beached
A brief mention on his website was all that did appear
When the press scrambled for a look, it was no longer here

A million fans waited in the rain to hear his word
He had chosen horse over kingdom, just like Richard the Third
No declaration from the stage as the bard took a silvery bow
The jokerman took the piss but no-one’s laughing now

Where is our Nobel Laureate? The troubadour paid no heed
In the halls of the Academy stood a disappointed Swede
Meanwhile holding back the tide like a vagabond King Canute
A song and dance man stonewalled glitter, glory, praise and loot

Is he just too cool for school like that Lebowski dude?
Or is he just plain arrogant, belligerent and rude?
Perhaps the hip he shoots from is now needing replaced
You may repent at leisure for anointing him in haste

So come on Bobby Dylan, come forth and claim your prize
No need for phoney rambles or your ragged alibis
Whether stuck inside of Mobile or down in Malibu
Get your sorry arse in gear cause this one’s just for you