important things in life

in the green land

not far from heaven and hell

where bananas grow in the trees near the mountains which seem blue after rain

where the parrots can almost speak, if spoken to,

where they still feed the poets without poisoning them with work life reformers who want them to shovel the shit to get bread to learn realities of life,

and they keep trained monkeys

to get more tourists

to sell them cheap copy watches

they met,

and later the man said,

let’s just forget about it

and they cancelled the wedding

and the semi-detached house with exclusive design furniture

and the white Mercedes

and three children and some dogs and cats and the fish,

and the boring Sunday afternoons walking in the park,

and the boring never ending rows about

who’s turn to walk the dog,

the line,

the rope

and through the eye of the needle

in the endless conversations about who sacrificed more,

like two small boys arguing about who won in the chess game last week,

and the woman thought about it for twenty years and said,

yeah, let’s cancel all right

and since then,

poets were never fed

without poisoning them with work life performers

who want them to shovel shit, to learn that what comes out of the bottom

is more important than what comes from the mouth.