A Dance to the Music of Bob Dylan

One often wonders, as one trawls one's eating implement through one's morning bowl of lukewarm porridge, scraping the last lumpy clumps of oaten repast from the depths of the ceramic vessel before one, exactly how many endless thoroughfares one - or indeed anyone - must perambulate in a linear manner before we can ascertain with any degree of certitude that one (or whomsoever else may also be navigating the same route) may unequivocally be defined as a member of the male gender?
Furthermore, a particularly curvaceous and poetic question mark hovers over the total sum of saltwater expanses that a chalkily feathered bird of the genus Columba Livia will be forced to traverse prior to falling into troubled slumbers amid the dunes of a distant and not especially Elysian shore.
It was Zimmerman who mentioned that the much sought after solution to these thorny problems was probably being buffeted about in the breeze, as if it had been exhaled by one of those generously cheeked graybeards who often graced the perimeters of seventeenth century maps.
Outside, a slow but steady drizzle was beginning to fall from the sky.

See also:

The Long-Winded Bluesman

The Verbose Backing Vocalist

Comments

[Dr Maroon]

In what way or sense are you having the experience?
I say again,
In what way or sense are you having the experience?
To be single-handedly in a solitary situation
Without a compass bearing towards your domicile
Similar in comparison to a stranger who is without a provenance?
Similar in fact to a dislodged boulder on a hillside?