“American dream,” we all bleated.
You must be asleep to believe it.
I tried
my hardest
to be free.
Now no one alive can remember
having a choice in November.
If it counted
they wouldn’t
let you do it.
So they keep control of petroleum.
America runs on linoleum.
loaded
dough
I’m just a nut
Growing all my own medicinals,
hygienics, fabrics, nutritionals.
Just don’t
drink the water
from the tap.

Glorious amounts of melted chocolate
swirling swirling swirling

Globular deposits onto sliding sheets
shining shining shining

Guttural phonetics of the gooey frenzy
smacking smacking smacking

Let loose a symphony
Let fall the curtain
Intake the stimuli
Real is uncertain

Your mind is a toy
Inside folded parchment paper
That once it's unwrapped
You can never reglue

She was a crepe myrtle,
ancient and creaking in the wind
whom I loved very much,
and whom I indulged myself
to believe reciprocated my attachment.
An alien species,
she found herself an obliging home
years before I came along
to lodge in the building
whose occupancy expected that one mow
the backyard in which she blossomed.
And there she blossoms still,
within view of the kitchen window.
And tells me in the sweetest sways her memoirs most sorrowful.

What did I ever do
to deserve a world where
avocados are underripe while they're overripe,
pens cede before their ink is spent,
rivers run dry, aquifers deplete?
What choice do I have
but to opt out of the technocratic misery,
overlorded by the Slither Circle,
to make my sways of the sun replete?

My country has a Military Complex
that fought wars over bananas.
My country prints Monsters on Money,
a desecrated spell to spill nature's blood
and use it in every commodity:
the ink, the encasements, the coatings,
the stains, the sealants, the wrappers,
even the food and medicine.

What did I do?
I ate. I wrote. I used.

The spider was not large who
interrupted my changing of the bed.
I startled to his jump. Quick
I darted to the kitchen,
rednose at my heels.
I grabbed a mason jar. When I
returned the spider had not moved.
My fear confined internally
and overpowered by innate love,
I adjusted the bed frame
so as to create sufficient space
for me to place the silicone embrace.
She jumped once more toward me.
I closed the lid and set her free outside
beside the beautyberry.
the end.

Assume the role of groundskeeper
entirely and entitledly. This is
your destiny: as a human
being your role is to care for
every plant, animal, and
fungus as your kin, for they
are the material that breeds us.
Permaculture is a simple tale:
Listen, and you will be told;
Ask, and you will be answered;
Play and you will be happy :)
Your propagations, transplants,
and seeds will grow,
flower, and reseed...