I wrote this poem many years ago as an ode to a good friend. (He knows who he is...) The photo is by Tom Wiebe, another Passion Coffee House literati.
This was stylistically inspired by the works of various beat poets, and by our mutual friend Jacob, who wrote a wonderful performance piece that was joyful and full of life in the creative percolator called the Passion Coffee House.
So there was this turtle-boy, ya see, and his eyes were baskets of blue lilies but he didn’t believe in anything like a Maxwell-House-skirting-the-issue, and he often kissed cannabis plants so we couldn’t smell the LSD on his breath like a sun-worshipping-jelly-baby, oh ya.
Crazy is as turtle does, often a pink baby goat but mostly lost on a blank page in a cafe-that-wants-to-spit-on-porcupines he was frequenting, and frequently late at for nothing except a banshee that was made of wood and mufflers that don’t work anyways, who was like an orange skinny-girl-with-airplanes-in-her-eyes that turtle does love, oh ya.
- Chelsea Bell
