Not Of Earth Poem by Stan Petrovich

I do not know what Earth looks like,
But I can fathom the faintly strawberry smell
Of your lovely hair, dangling there.
Where I am is anybody's guess:
Hopelessly meandering in bogs,
Wordy and throaty as a toad,
Not so blunt in recognition
That the whole oblivious continent
Is joining the condition
Of the rest of the fetid world.

How am I aware?
I have never been down there.
Two plus two are always twins;
They say the same thing over & over again-
We we begin to breathe
We suffer air-
No getting away-
I can see the unsettled yellow trees
Bending in a once-wholesome breeze;
It is the change of seasons
And my feet ache
For a couple of reasons.