The Cali Garmo

The friends who know my supple brain
call me out, say I’m insane.
I profess to them, “It ain’t true!
When the time comes, I’ll know what to do.”
I show them the sky, so purple throughout.
Where rainstorms have gathered, no longer a drought.
I show them the grass, turquoise abound.
Giving off subtle, planetly sounds.
“I’ll fly even deeper to high ocean depths,
Where birds and mermaids together have slept.
I’ll walk to those planets that haven’t been seen,
And stargaze back home through a nice filtered cream.”
“You’ve lost it,” they yell from mouths gaping wide.
Then they sent me places where I couldn’t hide.
Their funny farm doctors claim I’m not right,
That goats can’t sing and atoms don’t fight.
“The world,” they say, “is structured and plain.
There are rules that govern the mentally sane”
I laugh at their words! Can’t everyone see?
The tesseract world, laid out so plain to me.
The gorgeous world where bees call their home
wherever they see a nice barren tome.
Where the sun shines blue and the moon a bright white.
Where the birds and the mermaids recklessly bite.
Can they not see the wonders abound?
Why are they blind and don’t hear the sounds?
Who knows, I wonder, and I’ll always not know,
From this deep darkened cave, where time travels slow.
Stuck looking at walls and repeating the tasks
that those sullen dark doctors give me.