Weed Puller’s Soliloquy

Time for weeding. For bulbs to stretch their limbs.
For seeds to unzip skins & crack smiles.
After days spent plucking weeds i’m beginning
to realize their intelligence & cunning.
i see how Roethke came to respect them
: so barefaced, in plain sight of the po-faced Camellias
— one weed dresses in a baby-grow of grass,
mint excretes scent agreeable to all noses,
many coil pokey horns
into the cavities of stone paths
which fingers can’t pry open
nor tools pick, though shaped like pythons.
i’d rather be a weed
than a flower, tree or even a cloud.

Posted by:danielpaulmarshall

After living in Korea for shy a decade, I find myself back in England, penalized for my turned back, awaiting a move to Exeter, where I will study an MA in English, with focus on environmental studies. These days I am reading inveterately, owing to my no longer living without the means to buy books & books & books. My reading interest lie in contemporary philosophy, ecology, ecological philosophy, object orientated ontology & speculative realism. These ideas are leaching into my poetry & essays.

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