The Byrds fell in love with Bob.

creative writing, diary, memory, Northumberland, poetry

Am I being noisy or too quiet, dear muse? 

Politeness, the choice of weapon we choose.

We listened to ‘the season of the witch.’

This is our secret and how I wish

I adored your sleight of hand ways – 

but… the silent rewriting and riot of this

early spring evening on Whitley Bay beach 

last year: the blue lighthouse; the dark sand was wet;

Morrissey said it would be like this. And it was. 

But the moon was always Drake-pink. And it is.

Our seat was rock, couch-sized, uncovered by the afternoon tide; 

you know – weed strands and birdsong, cockles and whatnot. 

I brought 2 G’n’Ts, you brought two tiny joints. 

“On the rocks,” was our joke. How we giggled.

Walking back to the promenade I wanted so much 

to take your hand – we were so cool and so hot.

“I make my best art when I’m in love, like when

The Byrds fell in love with Bob.” 

Published

25 thoughts on “The Byrds fell in love with Bob.”

  1. I’ve been listening to the Byrds nonstop for the last few weeks (with the Flying Burrito Brothers thrown in there). So I was excited as soon as I saw the title, I knew I was in for a treat. And I wasn’t disappointed. I really love this poem. “Morrissey said it would be this way.” What a great line!

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    1. Aw, Bob, what a pretty coincidence! Right up ’til the last second it was called The Byrds fell in love with Dylan – which, obviously is the same thang, but the alliterative in me wouldn’t let it be! 🙂

      Glad to hear you flying the freak flag, bro – it wouldn’t be any other way, of course!

      &, as ever, thanks x

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    1. Thanks, PS.
      Oh, he’s not so bad – a bit cranky these days for sure. He always looks ace, but sounds like a nightmare in interviews! However, that evening on the beach, the words to Every Day… rang as true as bells. x

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      1. Yeah, I guess he always seems a bit hard work, a little too fragile. Morrisey is always very pretty, always will be I think. Bit like Lou Reed was always cool. Always. It gets that way, doesn’t it, a song just gets you and talks to you. That’s why I listen to jazz while I write, I cant hear other people’s words.

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      2. Have you ever read Jim Dodge’s Not Fade Away? It’s cool as anyway, but there’s a chapter in there about SF in the late 50s and the main character, Floorboard George, hangs with this beat dude, Big Red. Big Red never speaks too much but plays freeform sax and one night after trashing this car off the cliff on Highway 1 he performs this improv piece called Mercury Falling. The point being he likes to listen to sounds and not words. Your writing process sounds something like that, PS x

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      3. Now you are talking! I think my brain got rewired at some point – gabba gabba and all that, I see some of it in you – Im clean now, of course, and its been years, but it changes something in how you function and write and respond, I think. Highway 101…best highway in the world. I lived up and down it for years…I think I possibly have to rewind and do a post on that road…Thanks Nick!

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  6. This was so gorgeous like a frolic in the waves laughing that I have read it multiple times just to keep the fluttery delicious feeling going. Thank you as always, Nick Reeves. Your writing is like a wink and a trick and a warm smile all at once. Priceless. 🙂 xo

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    1. 🙂 Wow, thank you, AMC. I’m gonna cut this tie in half, scrawl pentagrams on this shirt, muss up my hair like I just don’t care (which I don’t much), torch the office, steal a ride & hit the beach for the weekend. Surf. Is. Up. Peas, cuz xo

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