Oz - Four Minute Poetry

Oz (crap; jingle; purple; tornado)

Written at Writers Exchange 3/9/95

Just like the tornado that came and carried Dorothy away from her pains
I long to be taken, to a place better than this world
I see it, smell it, can almost feel it pulsing through my veins
The green of the trees greener than any here
The sunset sending vibrant pinks and purples to plague the low set clouds
The flowing stream, crystal clear
The birds singing a joyful tune
But wait, it sounds like the jingle of the telephone bell
It is, and I’m brought back to this world, and see the state it’s in
And what is waiting for me, and
I know I cannot return, and I can only respond “Oh crap!”