April 23

 2 poems about plants

1.

An eye plucked from its socket

And pressed into the soil

will sprout and grow into a thick, dense shrub

whose fruit will turn and watch

As you walk past.

A heart freed of its cage

will burrow deep into the dirt

and send up tendrils that will 

creep across the earth

and tangle around your feet,

scratch its name on your flesh with its thorns

A brain popped from its can

and covered in loam and nurtured

with rich, pungent fertilizer

will grow into a tree. When the wind blows 

it shall thrash its branches wildly

and cut itself to splinters

with its own sharp leaves

2.

When Spring's fingers dig into you,

do you shiver and whimper?

Do you squirm with pleasure

when the fruit trees shower you 

with their petals?

Not me. It's another miserable April

And once again I feel mocked by the blossoms

Bursting everywhere, using their colors

To try to distract me from this drab existence.

We're not even in the same kingdom,

Yet I'm being sexually molested

By these vegetal predators.

Just because they smell pleasant,

Must i spread my legs for this

non-consensual scented harassment,

this aromatic assault?
Do you think if you stuff me with pollen

I'll burst into bloom?

No. My gardens are withered, my fields are barren. 

Seeds rattle in their husks. The fruit's gone sour.

It may be Spring, but my body says it's November. 

I'm much too old to want to be fucked by a flower.