Bite

fuck summer

each day a new pattern

of insect bites

an aching back another

spreading plant-induced rash

all for a sprawling

garden that each year

stretches by your own desire

to more than you can tend

so much for

the zen

of

flowers

the sour aftertaste

of self-sufficient survival 

the garden flops

bends shags wilds

all through sun and shadow

hides her weeds until

one day they tower up

she laughs and mocks

just watch me wait you out