marmosets played Dixieland jazz.
Rain fell for weeks.
Grandma made us Smores,
while Grandpa told stories
about the great philosopher
Gilligan and his ruminations
nations nations, echoing into
the yawning chasm in
the Dalai Lama’s yard.
ard…ard…ard…ard…
The duck’s quack echoed
in the imaginary world
inside Tom Green’s empty
mind. Quack…quack…quack…
Drew Barrymore still adored
the furry plastic gonk
inside E.T.'s discombobulated mind
using her psychic powers
she set fire to
Mrs O’Leary’s cow. “Moo!!!”