Of Radishes And Psychiatry

A radish popped out of the ground it had red cheeks, his face was round the leafy hair he had was green and little else could then be seen he waited patiently for me to pull him up so he could see. It was a Sunday in July I'd gone to Oregon to fly my cousin's brand new ultralight as I enjoyed the splendid sight of valleys and of mountaintops and, on the freeways, traffic cops I thought that I had missed my chance not even thrown a fleeting glance at all my veggies when I left thus of their energy bereft the veggies and myself would wait 'til in the evening, when late I would return from my long trip arrive at home, prepare a nip and suddenly, it comes to me I wander out to check and see if it is time to pick and choose and as I stand there, with my booze a sadness overcomes my being my eyes get moist as they are seeing the little radish, so admired has shrivelled greatly, looks expired his hair, so leafy and so green his reddened cheeks, so clearly seen a face, so loving, big and round a veggie from the underground. It is too late now, you were brave to wait for me, I'll dig a grave say radish to radish, and dust to dust and raise my glass because I must go back inside, prepare for bed just think, that little fellow's dead. That night I dream that I am mental that radishes are incidental to modern living, they are food to nourish and enhance the mood and if they die they go to ground where they, next season can be found recovering from hibernation like people from an operation so all those tears were overkill of the old geezer on the hill it's just that veggies are my friends which in itself shakes me and tends to make me think of them as kiddos and when they die they leave their widows The shrink said radishes are hot if you don't eat them they will rot he gave me pills then to arrange some of my thinking, which is strange and one small box of funny seeds he said 'They are exotic weeds, truly immortal and won't die when I grew radishes I'd cry today my garden is my joy but you are schizophrenic, boy you cannot look at simple plants and overlook that they wear pants it all is pretty much confusing so take these pills, you won't be losing your mind, which really is a vulture all due respect for horticulture.' Next season I went out to look there was the radish, and I took him in the house without delay and sliced him up, he looked okay. Then ate the fellow, hair and skin and nothing ended in the bin I told the doc about it later he said, he would no longer cater to health and welfare of my mind but that he was just being kind. He said that he had now retired to do what he and I admired he stitched together shirts and hats for radishes, (he called them brats) and cared for them and for the others because no veggies know their mothers and I do think that in the end the doc and I went 'round the bend.