I chose this song to represent this collection of poetry because it contains the imagery that weaves in and out of the collection – the outlaws, war, the viewpoint of the soldier, the relationships, the blue-collar struggle to survive. First listen I heard a soldier writing home from war trying to keep a stiff upper lip and making the family back home feel good about what he is being forced to do. The deeper I listened, tho, the more I heard, and the more complex these relationships become. Where you scan the verse will change its meaning subtly, and now I see it as a man whose come home and has come to terms with his wife leaving, and also tries to let his daughter know he did what he did, he thought, for her. Though she may know better, she still must hold her head high because she carries his name. Complex relationships, like real life. The best thing about the poetry is that it shifts meaning as my familiartity with it deepens. That’s what good writing should do. War Is Kind
Mother you saw my eyes on the 4th of July under a banner of roman candles. Mother, war is kind like hell, but I am fine.
Brother, have you gone west? You followed through once, yes. You are still young, how dare you forget? Brother, war is best in the morning when you've had rest.
Like a lost dog between houses in the unknown open country. Light a baton to see who's missing. My age is a metaphor that only speaks of everything before.
Daughter, you wear my name. Those are my eyes, keep them raised. I may have scars, but I give more than I take. Daughter, war is safe where you are, far away.
My lover, are you gone? My heart has taken too much on. One octave lower than thunder and drums. Lover, war is done, in more ways than just one.
Like a lost dog between houses in the unknown open country. Like an outlaw now standing at the foot of infinity, the sun is wild just in front of me.
Shoutouts for All Day And All Night, Everybody Pays As They Go & On Up The Mountain. Jakob Dylan
