GREEN MAN FROM
YELLOW MOUNTAIN
Whatever that was, I had it twice.
A strange elixir delivered by post.
Not airmail or anything; just post.
The delivery guy was already gone
when he got here. Drunk, I'm meaning
to say. He was green for sure, but he
said - clearly - that he hailed from
Yellow Mountain. Now, that was a
place I'd surely not heard of.
-
If he had a sister, I'd have asked her.
'What's up with your brother?' or
something like that. But I didn't
wish to bother with family stuff, for
maybe the ongoing peril was still live.
'Oh, Mama always liked him better.'
Or, 'Daddy was a no-good thief, and
I guess it rubbed off.' As it was, I simply
asked her what she wore under her
dress. She snickered, and said,
'A Freudian slip.'
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