Meanwhile
in the Garden of Eden coloring
book
with pencils and pastels I listen
intently
to Gris-Gris Dr John’s first
album
before a woozy late night poetry zoom
van Gogh is perched on my
shoulder
while I reconsider life’s expanses
and inspect a lifetime of inner
travel
silliness, drama, circumspection,
noise
Staring eyes of pale sanitarium
blue
calm and placid like a mild
summer day
Vincent mumbles as elsewhere tides
roll in
whispers Don’t take any wooden
nickels
Blackened beneath buckled maroon skies
small boats and battered dinghies
struggle
as gray-blue hulls chop into a fog
green sea
in a rainless yet stormy and
violent scene
Remember the horseback leather
clad police
in Planet of the Apes and toss a tie-dye
frisbee
wondering could they hit it with
their rifles
in the verdant forest encircling
the garden
What now, Vincent?
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