Posts tagged poem
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In the graveyard, I saw bees roll around

in big pink blossoms,

like pigs in shit,

like babies on aureoles.

I checked the traps on the oak trees

for invasive foreign species.

Why cry for trees and not cheer

the beetle’s blue bloom?

I hurt on this walk.

I cried in confusion.

On the way home, I saw

morning glory and recognized

the purple twisting spear shapes;

I had seen them in my garden.

In my garden, I’d believed

compost was belching up

undigested potato plants—

renegade life like my mother’s,

who survived cancer and

now dreams about a garden patch

filled with potatoes, about

having one one day like I have one now,

or so I thought.

Arriving home I pulled on purple species,

but they had deep roots;

dig them out and dig out all

bees, pigs, babies,

trees, beetles,

morning glory, mother

potatoes, all