Catalog of Interstices (3)
Come the rain rise the fields: the clover, goosegrass evening primrose Without order the land breeds chaos, fattens the spiders & rats Weekly I must cull this plot of excess Most call this work but I relish the sweat my mouth & lungs’ demand for air how each wild root hardens my belief in the need for this force After I bend each blade to my will & deem it good I climb the steps to look down on this acre I have shaped Then open a can of Bud, sing in my shower’s cold, hard water
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Date created | 29 Aug 2017 |
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Date modified | 07 Dec 2021 |
Manuscript | The Great Permission |