There’s a land
That has no borders
In an ocean
With no shores
On no planet
In no orbit
In a time zone
With no hours
Grief and sorrows
Are unknown there
Nothing old or new
Just beauty, peace,
And quietude
Nothing false and
Nothing true
There are flowers
With leaves of twilight
There are streams
That run uphill
Making rainbows
In the mountains
And from every
Rock and rill
Like silver coins a-jingle
The splashing waters fall
And springtime
Lingers lovely
And hardly moves at all
As the crocus
And the violet
And the daffodil are born
And when
The daffodil are done
The crocuses return
Here chocolate
Is a cure-all
And bacon
Makes you thin
And the weakest
And the smallest
And the slowest
Often win
There are no robo-calls
Or cellphones
The market never crashes
And Rachel
From Card Services
Each day
Gets forty lashes
A garden party
In a clearing
Welcomes factions
You once knew
They toast each other
Warmly and love
Each other too
White supremacists
Greet Black Panthers
The Muslims hug the Jews
The Sunni and the Shia
Drink Guinness and refuse
To think of ancient schisms
The Bloods and Crips and Sharks
Dance the hokey-pokey
David Duke toasts Rosa Parks
Rush Limbaugh, Rupert Murdoch
Glenn Beck and all the boys
Sing Auld Lang Syne with Hillary
And make a joyful noise
If a discouraging word
Is uttered
Or there’s any
Meanness there
You just snap your fingers
And they vanish
In thin air
All the dogs
You ever loved
Can romp with you
And play
And cats are in
A different Land
A million miles away
Collies eat the cauliflower
No one’s heard of beets
Asparagus and broccoli
Are there considered sweets
You can sleep in
Every morning
And go fishing
Every day
The grizzly bears
Just hug you
And the spiders
Run away
Or would do
If there were any
But there are none
So they don’t
And you wouldn’t
See them if there were
So anyway
You won’t
Sweet zephyrs
Blow across this land
Soft as a lover’s kiss
And birdsong is a blessing
And gentle rain a bliss
Unicorns and purple swans
Soar overhead
Like gliders
And there’s no
Poverty or ignorance
Or dearth or death
... or spiders
There are no dirty dishes
Or chores for you to do
Creeping Charlie
Is forbidden and
Weeds and spiders too
Here cool breezes
Pipe a prelude
That echoes
Clair de lune
And the spirits
Native thereabout
Dance beneath the moon
The vault of Heaven
Answers with angelic
Harp and lyre
Accompanied by
Harmonies from the
Mar-Ma-Nama-Nacle Choir
But no religions are allowed
And every soul is freed
The Landscape
Is the Holy Book
And Love the only creed
So Rapture is a meadow
And Zion is a bee
Nirvana is a vineyard
And Utopia a tree
Here rhymers
Face no deadlines
To finish any pome
And can sit there
In their comfy chairs
And never leave
Their home
And rhyme away
On a never-ending
Adding to it
Any time
To make it
Even worse
Eyes and ears
May travel through
This land
But ego, self, and mind,
Judgment, critique, and
Spiders must all
Remain behind
Here you live
From heartache and from
Grief and danger free
The common doom
Of all mankind
Is here reversed
For thee
It’s Eden
Without spiders
It’s Elysium
Without sin
And it cannot end
For it never does begin
And Forever
Isn’t either
It’s impossible somehow
In a land
Where every eon
Is just a happy Now
I saw it once
When I was Not
And Nothing was instead
‘Twas lovelier than
Where I died
And I’ll live there
When I’m dead