- Vol. 08
- Chapter 11
GUMBY VISITS THE ORCHARD AND WRITES HOME
Apropos of nothing,
as they say, as they say,
it’s a sign of health
(spiritual, physical),
this manifestation
of being able
to balance adroitly,
gracefully,
playfully
in the Void as void,
stamped with the stamp
of one’s own interpretations
as well as yours.
Tutti frutti (ah, Rudy!),
I’m yours, I’m yours,
you’re mine!
It could be the ugly duckling,
transformed
into so much more
than a mere swan—gone,
gone, completely gone—
paddling o’er to the other shore.
(Check your ego at the door.)
GUMBY VISITS THE ORCHARD AND WRITES HOME
It tickles me to see it,
balanced there, balanced here
in this sensibility—well,
where else would it be?
We don’t have to look too far
to see the show.
We don’t have to look at all—
it’s here! It’s here!
Gimmie a smile,
hand me down that unforbidden
tangerine from the tree,
and I’ll place it on my head,
standing tiptoe on one leg,
arms and hands outspread,
giving, receiving,
Roger, over and out—
do you read me?