Thursday, July 31, 2014

Cellular Respiration: a new poem

Cellular Respiration

He digs his shovel in
Metal against rock reverberates
As his lower back spasms and springs back into a healthy S curve
Slivers of polystyrene sift through the pile of dirt, growing and expanding like a malignant mass
On top of an old forgotten portion of the garden
Black eyed susans forgotten then passed away into the compost pile at the back of the shed

He begins to build up various levels of ruin inside his faded citron wheelbarrow
His feet burn
Hidden inside closed cell resin coverings equipped with adequate holes for drainage
He takes a strong sip off the rubber tube resting upon his shoulder
His moist curling hair dripping the taste of salt onto his lips as he works
He needs a refill

He walks towards the garage to obtain another bottle, hopefully chilled
He rests his shovel against the doorway
And enters the cool shade, skin drying quickly, heart slowing down
The smell of fumes pervades as his half-painted lockers
Stand to dry, grey at attention
Their new home a respite compared to the sad junk yard from which they came

He bends into the tiny, 5 cubic foot fridge
And pulls out a cold one
The latest elixir that a gardener needs
Ginseng, protein, Vitamin C, B6, B12, chromium, zinc, and taurine
the perfect concoction for optimum bodily efficiency
And just what a gardener needs to sustain himself
In his hot and grueling fight to maintain
His Garden---safe, hidden, uncorrupted by man.

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