Four Hundred Apples

Four Hundred Apples
© Surazeus
2025 04 30

Four hundred apples fall into my hand 
so I scatter their seed cores in soil 
along the road I walk to Neverland 
to play life of leisure instead of toil 
in cheerful valley of the singing horse 
who guides my journey to the river source. 

Sitting on wood floor in the living room 
while curtains sway in afternoon spring breeze, 
I watch television show about doom 
that rises as Godzilla from wild seas, 
then ride my bike in the small Texas town 
where no one has ever heard of the clown. 

Ten thousand years the Earth spins in the void 
while I walk west to find Cave of the Sun, 
then after math class I play the android 
who wants to learn more about having fun, 
but in the schoolyard we watch the plane fall, 
burning as it destroys the Berlin Wall. 

Sometimes while sitting in mid-morning class 
I stare out the window at tall oak trees 
and think about hunting snakes in the grass 
to gather honey made by humble bees, 
but then I focus on grammar of thought 
so I can program the demon robot. 

The question remains in the Book of Boats 
whether Fusang is coast of Oregon, 
so I drive my Chevrolet to herd goats, 
then crown myself Crow King of Avalon, 
since Jimmu taught me how to shoot yew bow 
while standing nobly in the swirling snow. 

With leaping laughter I play in soft rain 
to gather cherries in basket of hope 
while counting human time based on the reign 
each tribal sovereign adjusts to cope 
with disasters, and protect us from harm, 
though people still purchase the magic charm. 

Wandering among mossed rocks in low tide 
on the beach of Cape Alava at dawn, 
Otokichi decides he cannot hide, 
so he constructs the psychic cosmotron 
angels use to translate weird song of stars 
to human passion that fuels motorcars. 

Four hundred apples sprout from Tree of Life, 
so I purchase from Lucifer Estate 
Garden of Eden for my Java wife 
who manages fruit trees to calculate 
fortunate process of cause and effect 
that garners rewards of social respect.