I shuddered at the cacophony
That roared outside my door.
What lay beneath the hairy branches
Of Nature's constabulary?
That primordial design
Ever building, ever breaking,
Wonders surreptitious, its pleasure -
Oh, divine.
That green thaumaturge
Did stand at my gate
And sent down roots
To some chthonic place.
And when the rose buds bloomed
In June, I knew that my garden
Was written in some kind of
Pesharim, its message lost to most.
But I listened, oh I bent
My ears like a litigant to the
Judge, as the vines made me
An interlocutor in this earthly tete-a-tete.
It felt dastardly, to peel back
The petals of this stupendous joy
And see the inner-workings -
The hearts of stars that grow
at my feet.
Inside the stems
We're galaxies and mysteries, unventured
Life. Knee-deep in the shitter,
They shined.
With new perspicacity, I saw
The unmitigated farce that
A Digital Age would be,
Breathless and choking out life.
The key wasn't on the keyboard.
No, my sweet Genevieve, it's laying
In the Queens lace behind the red oak,
Waiting with patience.
Leave the kerfuffle of trolls
To blorge, glorge, and by George -
Go. Out of doors, to the
Place where the stars grow
In the dirt.
That roared outside my door.
What lay beneath the hairy branches
Of Nature's constabulary?
That primordial design
Ever building, ever breaking,
Wonders surreptitious, its pleasure -
Oh, divine.
That green thaumaturge
Did stand at my gate
And sent down roots
To some chthonic place.
And when the rose buds bloomed
In June, I knew that my garden
Was written in some kind of
Pesharim, its message lost to most.
But I listened, oh I bent
My ears like a litigant to the
Judge, as the vines made me
An interlocutor in this earthly tete-a-tete.
It felt dastardly, to peel back
The petals of this stupendous joy
And see the inner-workings -
The hearts of stars that grow
at my feet.
Inside the stems
We're galaxies and mysteries, unventured
Life. Knee-deep in the shitter,
They shined.
With new perspicacity, I saw
The unmitigated farce that
A Digital Age would be,
Breathless and choking out life.
The key wasn't on the keyboard.
No, my sweet Genevieve, it's laying
In the Queens lace behind the red oak,
Waiting with patience.
Leave the kerfuffle of trolls
To blorge, glorge, and by George -
Go. Out of doors, to the
Place where the stars grow
In the dirt.
--
Mad Words List 6.5.18
Chthonic
Shitter
Kerfuffle
Surreptitious
Thaumaturge
Cacophony
Stupendous
Constabulary
Blorge
Glorge
George
Pesher
Perspicacity
Primordial
Dastardly
Unmitigated
Genevieve
Interlocutor
Litigant
Mad Words List 6.5.18
Chthonic
Shitter
Kerfuffle
Surreptitious
Thaumaturge
Cacophony
Stupendous
Constabulary
Blorge
Glorge
George
Pesher
Perspicacity
Primordial
Dastardly
Unmitigated
Genevieve
Interlocutor
Litigant
-
Go, listen to nature. There is much to learn.
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