Vegetable garden

The poetry factory’s vegetable garden is growing beautifully
onions, tomatoes, organic flows of spontaneity
spark up like weeds, why we regularly maintain the scenery
across from the park is the bird haven sanctuary
the river is the church, the streets are our mosque
the maiden hair grows against green moss

the vegetable garden has groceries at low cost
try my basil pesto sauce
eyes of a hawk and speed of a cheetah chopping crops
cilantro and oregano slow the process
the small leafed need finesse
ball up the herbs and line up the cut
drying works best with the Sun’s but
one batch usually weigh a ton
Spring is almost done and Summer in Farsi is Tabestan
Every peasant farmers feels like a king when their harvest begun
to sing our poems and songs
the sting of sun flower stems stung
so wear gloves when you come along

The factory is taking out machines
starting to grow natural mechanisms of inventions
cleaning a dump to pump pollinating bees to a plump fragrance
dreaming of big fig and plumb orchard picking
whose chicken is this not fenced in? “That’s Charley for fry day evening”
playing guitar with a hat on the floor jingling
writing our own maps, perhaps it’s not as hard as were thinking
new ideas for everyday  living

Mandatory School gardening in all ages
play with the dirt as for what it’s worth
learning from the page as well as what we may have made
Only the future will display, that which lasts
the grasp of eating, food production and class
asked a professor on the science of the coming change
He said he would teach his son how to use a gun, magazine.

The garden is a community effort,
the factory lowered its net worth
intentionally the competitive turned collaboratively as we
birthing the comm(unity)
desert is handed out free to all those arriving
perched on a porch a little perch lurks in the under-hanging
watching us with shovels and picks digging quickly
a vegetable garden can be
part of our identity again like way back when it was part of the family and friends.

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