Thursday, 5 April 2018


The cowgirl went to her doctor
because all her plants kept dying.
It was a cosmic joke. The doctor
prescribed amino acids and empathy
but the cowgirl was all out of fucks.
Without the fucks resuscitating
the fern was impossible. What’s CPR
without a seal between fronds
and lips? A useless breeze
on a dry desert road.
At the funeral the doctor
took advantage of the free bar.
He said he did everything he could
but the doctor was an empty shirt.
The cowgirl wound a rope around
all the roots in the garden.
The punchline came up with
her first tug. We closed our eyes.
The dirt fell on our cheeks from the sky.

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