THE LOST MANUSCRIPT



"Barry Feinstein, the rock 'n' roll photographer, was digging through his archives last year when he came across a long-forgotten bundle of pictures, dozens of dark, moody snapshots of Hollywood in the early 1960s. And tucked next to the photographs was a set of prose poems, written around the same time by an old friend: Bob Dylan. "It was the lost manuscript," Feinstein recalled by telephone from his home in Woodstock, New York. "Everybody forgot about it but me." The poems were so lost that Dylan, when told of the discovery, had forgotten that he had written them. (In his defense, it was the '60s.) But after languishing in storage for more than 40 years, the text and photographs will be published in November in a collection entitled "Hollywood Foto-Rhetoric: The Lost Manuscript." (texto completo aqui)

Dois dos poemas:

after crashin the sportscar
into the chandelier
i ran out t the phone booth
made a call t my wife. she wasnt home.
i panicked. i called up my best friend
but the line was busy
then i went t a party but couldnt find a chair
somebody wiped their feet on me
so i decided t leave
i felt awful. my mouth was puckered.
arms were stickin thru my neck
my stomach was stuffed an bloated
dogs licked my face
people stared at me an said
“what’s wrong with you?”
passin two successful friends of mine
i stopped t talk.
they knew i was feelin bad
an gave me some pills
i went home an began writin
a suicide note
it was then that i saw
that crowd comin down
the street
i really have nothing
against
marlon brando


Dennis Hopper, segundo a partir da direita, durante
as filmagens de Night Tide, em 1961. (Barry Feinstein)

death silenced her pool
the day she died
hovered over
her little toy dogs
but left no trace
of itself
at her
funeral

(2008)