deepundergroundpoetry.com
Cabbage
Kill the bugs
They leave their marks
Fleeting
I take the hunk
Of char-grilled animal
Respect it with the jus
Fungi scattered
Like little soldiers
In my own private war
With myself and the world
Including Mother Nature
And all her so called gifts
Which I think I love so much
And probably really do
But the music
And the juices of the vine
Take me somewhere else
Where I am contented and happy
The simplest and most complex of things
I see their marks
The signs of being and going
Should they haunt me?
I do not know
I want to dance
In my own way
I see the ground
It sees me
Be patient fuck you
I’m coming
They leave their marks
Fleeting
I take the hunk
Of char-grilled animal
Respect it with the jus
Fungi scattered
Like little soldiers
In my own private war
With myself and the world
Including Mother Nature
And all her so called gifts
Which I think I love so much
And probably really do
But the music
And the juices of the vine
Take me somewhere else
Where I am contented and happy
The simplest and most complex of things
I see their marks
The signs of being and going
Should they haunt me?
I do not know
I want to dance
In my own way
I see the ground
It sees me
Be patient fuck you
I’m coming
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