Sunday, May 04, 2008

A ROTTEN POEM

I am the compost
I rot in a heap
I rot when you wake
I rot when you sleep

I have no body
Nor brain instead
I am the living
That lives on the dead

Potato peelings
Garden cuttings and teabags
Or a philosopher’s head
Wrapped up in a sack

It all came from compost
I bring it back

All organic transformed
That’s what I do
I am the compost
Soon you’ll be too

No comments: