Wrote this poem 46 years ago. It's not very good.
Synthetic Realism
Synthetic Realism
Fugue appartice
time capsule daydrems
Tuesday afternoons sipping tea
hiding out in Mimosa Grove
with no identification
deep purple halucinations
spilling all over the floor
sunshine
climbing up the walls
Thinking plastic thoughts
bleeding plastic blood
everyone celebrates Tuesday
in Mimosa Grove
even the aborigines
take the day off
to dress in ceremonial splendor
and do artificial dances
to the beat of
unbreakable make-believe drums
Imagine
the two of us
in dandelion chains
with dandelion rings
around our fingers
Imagine
the two of us
celebrating Tuesday
in Mimosa Grove
(by Leo)
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