Eidolon

Down in fame’s flood, down an alley, down

wind of now, elegant in self-denial,

an Iron Range wraith junking cue cards, an ideal,

an idol before which the Zeitgeist kneeled.

Dylan, named for a poet named from an old

tale of the child who crawled to the sea, this land

is yours: the black plain the needle

ploughs from lip to label; be all, end all.