Cultivar (how not to recover)

Originally Published By Riggwelter Press

Grief is a cause for growth

apparently,

however,

cancer & tumours & fungus all grown in the dark of human gardens

& I have no desire to will my resolve to fester.

Mildew hearts coughing spores of

"It gets easier in time."

I think // You let // Flowers // Bloom from // Your

everything

& never picked out the weeds &

that’s ok. But the flora of my stomach lining

is a show home with

bile flourishing beneath the windowsills.

I have no greenfingered desire

to let the mulch of my untold secrets

grow into anything.

Maybe repression isn’t the best way to grow,

but I think of

how carefully cultivated bonsai trees are & how the hottest chillies &

sharpest cacti grow in terrible conditions.

Maybe I'll just

ensure I divert waters

to force drought conditions,

so my grief

has nothing to feed on

& worry about the arid nature

of my irrigation channels

only when my famine

starves the village that raised me.