Just what it says- with a free preview of one of the poems contained within. Currently, my book of poetry, "My Five Gallons," is only available on Kindle. In the coming weeks I intend to open it up for paperback as well. Look for that to happen before summers end. And now, a preview of the book. This is one of my favorite poems in the collection.
My Ecosystem, Your Crop…
Who says your manicured lawn,
Is better than my tended field?
Look at your lawn, even and
Made of one plant, like rows of corn
Or wheat planted for harvest-
Only less useful. You have a
CROP.
Your crop is nothing more than
Plants planted for their look,
And how do they look? Do they
Look like a vast stretch of open
Plain? Does your crop look like
Something that would be seen in
A wildlife preserve?
Nope. It looks like crop. Blows like
Crop. Grows like crop. It is crop.
Now view my field, though it is only
A quarter acre. Where in one
Square yard of area, you have “grass,”
I have five different plants. All green,
All lush, all alive. Some flower. Some vine.
These are your weeds, and they are my
Field. You go to parks to see nature.
I open my back door, walk in my field.
I look down, and for a moment,
I am not in town- I am far away,
Buried in some hilly beauty known
To you as a national park. What you
Seek on vacation, I see in my yard.
What you pay to see, I pay nothing to grow.
Yet, I must damage the field I have come to love.
Not because I wish to tend, or cultivate it.
I must cut it to be within the law.
To “keep up with the Jones’.”
Fuck the Jones’.
If I were to have my lawn, as I wished-
I would let it grow the way it wants-
Let trees sprout forth from it,
Let flowers, and “weeds” grow
And multiply, adding their weight
To the diversity you want in work,
But deny in your lawn. You plant
Flowers for their look, and try to
Improve upon natures bounty,
Yet you miss the wonders that
She, in her greatest endeavor,
Puts before you.
I would trade the Jones’ lifestyle
For a square mile of prime farming
Country, to let it grow as it wishes-
To anger the other farmers, and make them
Jealous of the land I have.
To have them offer me money to
Farm it, have one plant grow on it so
That they can make a dollar-
And spurn them.
Let them have their perfect crop.
Let me have my small garden,
And my field.
I know- it's kinda hippy (and pretentious) in its view, but I like it. If you'd like to read the rest (and you happen to own a Kindle), please support my work by purchasing my book. It's only $9.99.