All swoony mooned
our curious comrade Cassius,
recently romanced by
various head-hunters,
flown in for interviews
and supplied with rental cars
and hotel rooms.
Controlledy cruised he as
out before his wet,
carressing eyes rolled
the old, Northern
well-greened,
oak-dotted Californian hills.
Happy, cud-chewing bovines
idled there as whizzed he by
most automotively.
Too long it seemed he'd
roamed the sun-battered
Southern 'scapes, with
chapparal, boulders and
the blight of rampant and
ugly, modern tract-house constructions
accruing little interest in his
drought-dried imagination.
Fickle Santa Ana fed
the rogue fires and
sent him scrambling
toward the shore
one time too many.
Now his penniless thoughts
marched out like little,
revolting tin men,
sought to surround themselves
with other elements,
cooler climes and
a surfeit of blood-red wines
to fuel their song-starved pens.
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