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