I wrote this almost exactly a year ago. A nice little ditty to get us started.
I am on the way to the field of The Chernobyl Llama With Two Ears On the Right
He takes me to see The One-eyed Toad
But he is dead
The Chernobyl Llama nudges him
And licks him
And all of his children have only four legs
But he is dead
So we walk back to the bend in the river
The one next to the hollowed out tree trunk of the perfect wombat
To have tea.
Would Samson have been as successful with the jawbone of a chinchilla?
Chlomp chlomp crack chlomp chlomp
What do pickled sea cucumbers taste like?
(I was on his left side so he didn’t respond)
Did the unicorn evolve into the narwhal?
Chlomp golup phpibibibibibibibibib
The Chernobyl Llama is not noble
He licks peanut butter from shiny spoons
Picks basil in bushels that are used for kindling
I take him to the spring where my son drowned two years ago
(His toys still lie on the window sill
One porcelain-eyed doll reconnoitering the front yard)
I draw him a couple of pictures with some unlabeled colored pencils
I often mistake orange for green
A portrait of two hedgehogs
One gathering glowing mushrooms -
“Why are you picking mushrooms?” one hedgehog asks
“Dinner, tonight” says the other
The next picture is the second hedgehog murdering a chicken with a forklift
The Chernobyl Llama writes poems in which nobody dies
“ “ “ is an avid recreational forklift driver.
