Chris Risum 1865 - 1920

Chris Risum 1865 – 1920 She was the only woman who listened to me. The only lady who cared enough to care. For within my own dead marriage I was sadly alone, pathetically ignored and ridiculed. For while I was alive, I was an afflicted man. A man dead inside himself. A man endlessly looking for absolutely nothing to find. With clenched fists and thrown shoes, I was the man dodging the vitriol. The man who felt absolutely no love For the last twenty years of his life. But alas, I met her. The only woman who ever listened to me. My lovely Gertrude, The tall busty eucalyptus tree On Rideout Way. And there I would sit in her sensual shade, On warm summer afternoons with my thoughts and desires. And with the presumptuous winds Streaming and knifing from the west She would reach down with her long leafy flowing arms And allow me, A mere man worth absolutely nothing, To touch her. To feel incontrovertibly, Her scintillating life force!