PeaNavpeamail me!to 	be continued... 	be continued... soon.germination of ideas

Bee Dirt

soil bitter, bare, raining bulb bursts
after sweet seasons, elborate and green trowel thing
like a yellow luscious fruit tree, stop sleep
when a tranquil gorgeous vegetable tongue
rusts and protects the enormous iron blow sausage
still beneath one part of the repulsive blanket
though spring hides, puppy pants give off harsh wind
conditioned as a thousand faithful gardeners
raw ornaments shadowing tiny brown worms
show nature beating through languid flakes
they blister beneath a clump of sacred bee dirt;
why, death could house every delicate green gift.

[Princess Pea]

(c) Princess Pea