061912
—
small chamomile sprouts
like solar-powered hope, springs eternal
from the bones of a compacted, desolate earth
in a discarded urban lot.
It quietly proliferates
like so much green noise
grows doggedly without notice
tucked away into the brown background
amongst the edible weediness of abandoned fields filled
with wild carrot, wild lettuce, dandelion, catsears, and clover.
Lots and fields like these
stoicly flank the hubris of flatulent fossil-fueled machines
groweling and howeling myopically
along the heat-baked blacktop of the adjacent throughway
punctuated with the deafening roar of jet engines
coming and leaving a few feet overhead
as they tear through peaceful dreams
like skyward sign posts
aggressive, incoherent, screams
just as i whisper to you now…
welcome to civilization, where
small chamomile sprouts
like solar-powered hope, springs eternal
from the bones of a compacted, desolate earth
in a discarded urban lot.
it quietly proliferates…