Desperately Seeking Tom Robbins

I moved to Hidden Valley–

since life became distressing…

on the table,

on the label,

under words that spell: Ranch-Dressing.

The fields are ripe for harvest,

the planted rows are green–

—and veggies are

like candy bars!

And everything’s so clean.

The people there are sparkling!

their joie de vivre plain…

the ice cream treats,

are made from beets,

the kind that never stain.

The sky is always sunny–

the clouds just fluffy balls.

the only rain,

organic grain,

no GMO’s at all.

Maybe come tomorrow,

I’ll hike toward bright horizon,

follow sun–

–when salad’s done

see what’s behind the hyphen.