Transplanting

by P.S. Finger


* * *

In the context of

the vigorous expansion

of a woody stem,

its core mechanics

white and wet and pulpy;

 

In the context of

the artless spring

inherent in the infant leaves

unfurling like vaginas

and deep space nebulae;

 

The branching of its arms

which are not arms

but more akin

to skin or skeleton or lungs;

 

The branching of its feet,

akin to feet

but also tongues that lick

and swallow earth;

 

The care of potted plants

involves their constant recontainment,

always

outgrowing home,

eventually

outgrowing my ability to lift them.

 

Thoughtfully arranged around

my living room in genteel tubs

of black, electric dirt,

a thousand crisp, white hairs

dispatch a supple and insistent inclination,

 

unmapped until my fingers

wrap around the humid ball

in vague, but gradually evolving awe

for this, so unsuppressable and

ethereal, yet at the same time

such a filthy mess.

 

"This time," I think,

"I'll be my gentlest yet.

The new soil flush,

encircling

the crumbly cluster

sweetly more,

loving more

than ever, ever, ever

before."

+

 

* * *

Writings Home Page
Home