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At play in the fields of the JOB

I do not know your name, O weed,

Your genus, species, class, or breed,

But I think the only fact I need

Is this:  that if I touch you, I will bleed.

Comments

  1. Oh, that’s nothing compared to the thistles we got in Texas:
    http://scrutinies.net/2010/04/wildflower-commute/

  2. The JOB replies:

    But had I done as you would do, O weed,
    My family – your phylum, my brood – your breed,
    Then perhaps at roots you’d stem the felt need
    To fall upon the fingers of life…and bleed.

  3. Quin Finnegan says:

    Since the weed itself is shaped like a hand,
    consider calling this nightmare strand
    (as effective as any steady Luger)
    Freddy Kreuger.

  4. World’s Skinniest Sonnet

    His
    Piss
    Miss-
    Es
    Grand
    Sand-
    Banned
    Land:
    Thus,
    Rose
    Grows;
    Heeds
    Weeds’
    Seeds.

  5. As much as I am enjoying the poetry–
    since I live in your region of the world, JOB, could you tell me what the heck this is and how I should avoid it?

    • Matthew Lickona says:

      IC,
      The plant was in my backyard here in SoCal. Right at the edge of the patio. I said “at play in the fields of the JOB,” because I was encroaching on his turf by writing poetry, and poetry inspired by plants to boot.

  6. Erodium sp. — from the family Geraniaceae

    The pokies are in fact the flower’s ovaries, which elongate after pollination — characteristic of the family

    here’s to poetry and botanizing!

    -(Jonathan’s niece)

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