Surreal Poem

I met a tangerine today,
it fizzled in my face,
sang Mrs. Robinson
in Russian,
and stormed off into the night,
even stranger
when you consider
the label said she was from
Colombia,
and a hey mr. tambourine man
played a purple song for me,
while a six foot cat
with twelve chess pieces
hidden up his sleeve,
shook my hand and made off
with the poor man's case,
in the jingle jangle afternoon,
and the woman of my dreams,
except I didn't know it yet,
walked past with
one long earring
in the shape of a swimming pool,
told me her name was 'Nada',
and danced a slow stop-start
flamenco,
then disappeared without warning
into a thousand porcelain pieces,
sad really, but nothing compared
to the sudden shock
of the hand of the melting clock,
who, with a pat on the back,
shook his head and said
'oh well, you win some, you lose some'.
And a travelling band
of performing penguins
cartwheel slowly into view,
and do tricks with cards
and magic balloons
before somersaulting
out of the window,
leaving their lonely elephant mascot behind
crying in the corner,
and suddenly I'm in a supermarket
made entirely out of paper,
where rubber ducks of every shape and size
are for sale on every single shelf,
and where Dali buys a dog collar
for his Andalusian dog
(because Luis and Federico
never did much get on)
and Andre Breton
is a giant swan
whose gonna miss me when I'm gone,
flying all the way to the moon
in a ukulele rocket ship,
and look, that tempestuous tangerine is back,
but this time smiles and takes my hand,
and, apologising profusely
in Portuguese
for her impromptu departure,
flings herself at my feet
in provincial French,
and begs forgiveness with
Japanese kisses
across my mildly embarassed toes,
and to be honest,
I don't know where I'm going with all this,
and I'm not quite sure
what short-tempered fruit
with a flair for foreign languages,
has got to do with anything,
but then, isn't that the point?