A New Clear Day
The little boy and the fat man
Went out for an outing,
Picking toadstools prettier than
The flowers that were sprouting.
They ate one and... what dreams they dreamed
That hot and clouded day
Of August when the shadows gleamed.
They dreamed of a new clear day,
Of pure, fresh air and grass green lands,
And nimbuses adrifting,
Of rivulets sweet and yellow sands
That cake when they asifting.
The cracked nuts from the tall trees droop,
Ambrosial - food for gods,
And little rabbits hop and poop
Little pellets and rods.
And lo behold, when moonshine’s done,
On top the palmy gradient,
There stands the mighty many-a-ton
Beneath the sunshine radiant.
They’re clean and bright and sparkling white,
The strong and concrete masses,
So smooth and symmetrically right
The domes and hourglasses.
Perfection, truly, was beheld,
Hooray, the happy hours.
Solution, every problem felled
With cheap, unending powers.
And the sky was blue, and the hills were green
And the winds were blowing warmly,
And far off, the sea-foams swarm and teem,
Wave after wave crash, normally.