meeting mr. zimmerman

minding your own
business, you wait
for a cup of coffee
at the coffee shop
when bob dylan
bumps into you.
hey, you say. hey
he says back. what's
new, you ask him,
not knowing what
else to say and he
says, what kind of
question is that.
would i ask a complete
stranger what's new.
no man. when are
you people going
to stop asking me
what's new. nothing's
new. it's a new day,
but everything else
stays the same. i'm
not your shiny light
to follow, i'm not...
some sort of prophet
singing protest songs.
i'm just a poet....
at this point you say
excuse me, but i have
to put some cream
in my coffee, have
a nice day. and he says,
nice day? are you telling
me that i should behave
in a certain way,
like you do, like they do.
i'm not a sheep man.
i don't follow anyone.
and the only reason
they keep asking me
for the truth is that they
don't have any truth
in their own lives....nice
day? what does that even
mean, man....
slowly you back away,
and slip out the door.