Written, Discarded and Rediscovered

poem written on a scrap of paper........I must have heard Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, before writing this......I would think, anyway...but the poem is dated 1967!....Who knows?  


I sat in tweed and redwood, thinking;
But, lost in thinking, fell asleep, and dreaming, dreamt
Of curious torn plastic trees
And tangerine lemonade stands,
An arc of animals, helter skelter...running,
My palms against their backs.

Water and straws, ice cubes and limericks,
Poems of cream and of plums--
Redolent roses, fresh grass and Keats; 
Hallux distortion, Charles Darwin's feet,
Yellow parakeets, blue crocuses and peyote flowers,
Effete generations of scarabs and of dung...

And.....dancers, revolving on marmelade trees,
Crushing hands against typewriter ribbon's rivetted...
Porous fingers, damp skin,
Flashing orange oranges and rolling red pins;
The sound of that rose in the green blown vase,
Love, without passion, and spectrums of Light,
Still, yet touched by slender fingers......lightly.....