everything is growing that is not supposed to
like intrusive thoughts in the recesses of the mind
onions sprouting fingers green and reaching
from the papery bulb shedding, shedding
can i learn from this fragile breaking apart
I toss them in the compost bag the synthetic green offensive somehow
a heaviness that is permanent
permaness I want to say but that is not a word
it is a made up word in between spanish and english
tangled in a way that I am not often do I have a right to be
this halfness , when I log in to try to right this poem
google asks me for my home address and I click the button
that says not now.
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