Botanical Gardens

At the Botanical Gardens. Smell of levened manure surrounds me. Waterfall burble to my left and then farther away--fainter to the right and middle--sky reflections at my feet--gentle of the bee beyond my back--far off tree with birdsong. Flies. Lilypads. Crunch of footsteps on gravel. Sun just came out. Sparkly Green on the pond lilygrass. Tried to start my 'project' yesterday--ended up with a gessoed over beastie on hot pink, purple, magenta/fushia, with prussian streaks. Yeah. Starting again!

Grace

Felted Zebra

(the same, read in reverse)

you confide in materialism
with disgust, loathing
"shitenmerde, mercy, mercy, merc
...therefore go not i"
fragmented DNA strands
like corn rising in lard.

"that'll be a lil bit tougher,"
like biting through
saddles of cow hide, plasticine
boys balanced in crisp
reds and blues, checkered scarves.
the pink curve of baby cheeks,
fat jowls ready for barbeque sauce.