Thelonious Confusing was a kid that I knew.
If I picked a red flower, he'd say it was blue.
He rode escalators wrong, using ups for the downs.
If you asked him his weight, he'd say six hundred pounds.
He told me that he kept the moon in his pocket.
Each night, he'd return it with a rubber band rocket.
He said the sun was a lightbulb some tall guy controls.
He said that his sock drawer was invaded by trolls.
He wore his shoes on his nose and his pants on his head.
He liked sleeping with porcupines that bounced on his bed.
He said he was raised by a group on gnus,
And that his family reunions were held at the zoo.
He told me one day he ate Canada for lunch.
The snow was like sugar, the mountains added crunch.
On school days, he'd walk on his hands in the halls.
Thelonious Confusing made no sense at all.
Professor LeGrand once quizzed him in math.
"What's two from seven, Thelonious, my lad."
"It depends where you are and what time you have tea,
but in this town at tea time, the answer is three."
"I'm afraid you are wrong," said Professor LeGrand.
"The answer is five, if you live in this land."
"No," said Thelonious, "you're wronger than me.
I'll explain to you quickly why the answer is three.
It's easy to see, two from seven is five.
But you're somehow forgetting your square roots and Pi.
So elongate your two and configure by four.
You'll receive an odd number no fool could ignore.
Then simply add one, provided it's free.
And you'll see your result is quite logically three."
Thelonious Confusing was that way a lot.
He made me confused, he muddled my thoughts.
I always believed him for a minute or three.
Then slowly I'd realize that this just couldn't be.
I think he believed what he said was quite true.
I'm sure he believed that red flowers were blue.
Who can say that he didn't see things as he said.
Perhaps he enjoyed wearing pants on his head.
And if the world was one way, without lefts or rights,
Or if all skies were gray without days or nights.
Or if the seasons stopped changing, no summers, no falls.
I don't think I'd like it, no not much at all.
He just saw the world his way, inside out though it was.
To him, bees fluttered by, and butterflies buzzed.
Only once did ge say something of which I was sure.
He said we were best friends, and best friends we were.
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