I knew it wouldn’t last long — the GRIN, that is
Insanity has set in again — with loneliness
Are trees supposed to dance like that?
Heat rises once more from the tortoise plants
Giving the STRENGTH TO LIVE quite a fight
The Sun sleeps so where is the NIGHT?
I once met Waldo Emer Ralphson in a
Small cabin floating between six electrodes
The wisdom He gave shrouded my unreality with lucid bliss
The THREE vegetables descend to disperse the
triarchy known only to TRUE disciples
Waldo laughs, the penguins watch with their
usual facade of innocence
Green-ness envelopes me, caressing the wrinkled ones
A later version adds the following lines:
Do I remember the field mice stomping bull moose of Switzerland?
Of course! The destroyer of love!
No other recourse but to absorb the fractured feelings of others,
wishing for love of its own
Written inside Tramps nightclub, Jacksonville, Ark. “Waldo” is often found in my poems, usually referring to my flirtation with what I considered insanity / mental instability / depression during my teenage years. Most vegetables and animals are references to a pseudo-religion my friends and I developed in high school.