Deere John

He let the grass in front of his palace walls grow so tall; it tickled his chin's underbelly.
They said he didn't care about his community,
That his display downgraded the adjacent property
But he, he just felt like home.
Like somewhere on the plains of Angola...
Bare back bent like archers’ bows
Sky diving from the Kalandula water falls and landing into a field of marigolds so effulgent they blinded him before impact.
As they sneered, he smiled and reared back in his rocking chair...
All he could hear was the water pulsating...
And crickets in choir rehearsal, practicing for their performances at dusk and midnight.