Monday, May 08, 2006


I exercise my dominant mammal rights
on this small piece of land between the house
and the sidewalk. The plants here
are mine, to do with as I will. Trowel in hand,
I commit genocide on yarrow, povertyweed,
the never-defeated armies of dandelions.
I dig deep, going for the roots, I understand,
as conquerers must, that the most important defeat
must happen underground, that the smallest defiant shred
can raise an army again, that a nation
of nodding peonies cannot live in the shadow
of purple loosestrife.


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