Illustrated poem surreal soldier memory story from old diary

a page from an old diary i found at a flea market

and modified by my eye disc......

dali day, lays a lily at a grave. the spanish moss hides his row boat made of drift wood.

women wash their clothes in the large shadow of this man. Dali day had been following his wounded friend to this place, begging him to let him treat the wounds. the grave is fresh, the man had been riddled with shrapnel and had walked miles into the jungle from the desert. each step he took was followed by a puff of sand trailing behind him in the wake of his gas mask.

the women shaved their legs down by the river where they keep glass orbs of florescent pink and gold leaf in a garden. The garden is one of mushrooms cascading over canteens, casks and AK47’s. 

their spore umbrellas spiral around iridescent tubes. conk shells hang from weeping branches clinking against grenade shells. a tiny stream houses jelly fish who float over sparkly lace filigree. there is a stone bench cracked in half held together by rose briar. the dali soldier slumps on it’s seat of carved stone wings and cries with his head heavy. the glass sculptures emit a smoky perfume that relaxes him. dali day’s boat is untied by the women and sent drifting out to sea.