the way i clean

, i felt like moving around. so i began by stripping the bed. then in the bathroom i noticed the gloxinia were in very bad shape. close to death. you know, i nurtured them all thru the summer. they bloomed again. i even read up on how to make them perinianl, not seasonal. so i did what they said, but half assed. lost interest n the task. so i decided to see if they survive the winter outside. at the foot of my front door, a bowl of ice cream, melted and dumped on the rug. stepped in it like dog poop. nothing to do but open the door and wipe my foot in the grass. outside, i found what might be a suitable spot for the plant, dug it in. then began to take stock of the ground cover, which one cannot aptly call a lawn. there's grass, yes, but it's relegated to a patch not underneath the oak which spans the this curve
in bayou drive. there's ground cover with tiny white and purple flowers, it's soft and you can walk on it.there's clover too. that's good enough. i wonder what kind of border would go good there? i'd like something woodish, not plastic. even bricky. anything but black plastic.
maybe the indication of a path without it being an actual path. flat stones, yeah. anyway. i pulled some weedish looking flowers, tho i like them. they make wonderful wild bouquets in the grass. reds and purples. maybe they'll grow good in that spot on the side of the house where only sandspurs and orange weed grow. oh, and my one aloe plant. it's doing well, behind the grasses, thick and spiny, it's a desert succulent. so i begin to weed that patch were the daisy seeds i planted a couple springs ago sprouted, where the pot plant began last year. that's my little breeder patch. took out the grasses and the spurs, left the ground cover, spread the last of the seed pods left on the dried out stalks of the daisies. i hope they do well. i spread them all over the yard, wherever i found i a border invaded by sandspurs. i've been battling these fuckers since i moved in.

it's a love hate kinda thing. the very fact i know they're there brings me out into the yard with spade and purpose, then i begin to want to landscape...anyway, i had the idea that i was getting the last of them today, the sun beating down, spotting the stalks with their spiny fruit, the tall bold ones, easy to grab, and even the short ones hiding under the cut grass. i was god, ripping the last of them from their home. i'll show them survival of the fittest! i told them come to me my dears you're nice and healthy ones aren't you? not numerous but doing well. i gather them in bits and pieces, traversing the yard with spotlite sight. sweat runs off my head at the trash can and as i dump them in and secure the lid, my whole world turns black. i'm conscious only of the need to not fall down. to ride out the darkness until i can come to myself. i hang on to the plastic grave, thankfully my knees don't buckle. i'm reminded of a whip it can.


when i come up out of it, i go to the hose, turn it on, douse feet first, then legs, face, head. don't drink from the hose, it has bacteria.
sit in the chair on the porch, recovering. go to the back door, it's locked. huh? walk around to the door i came out thinking the boys are playing a trick on me, i'll have to beg entrance, i'm not in the mood. it's cracked open. they forgot to lock it. step inside the door, right onto the ice cream melt i went out on, full circle.



lol.