written By
1) How simple life might be
as a sunflower, degree of rotation
programed
from birth, no question
what to do. On “bring a pretty
caterpillar to school”
day, I found myself
with something ugly
that the teacher called “A prudence
angel worm” and promptly,
dangerously, I threw the jar
from the nearest window.
2) I’ve learned
to eschew ornament, to follow
function—if only till time
to dust the day’s task
from my palms. A collection
of wavy lines, I could be water
as painted by Giotto for the grandest
cathedral. If called for
an encore, I hope to be impenitent,
a facho wild boar
disheveling an assembly
of sunflowers while her pet worm, Angel,
struggles to keep up.
