Two Threads

I have 34 plants and they’re all mad at me

for three years I thought about dying every day
and every other Monday at 707pm, Bob tells me I am
moving on, that he’s proud of me

I think the plants aim to prove him wrong

It wasn’t just me that died
>Fox, Mom, David Lynch, every one of my friends<
I mourned everyone I knew every time I saw their faces and
I cried at how could I move on from this, or how will they remember me

Smug brown leaves smiling wry

I’ve spent most of my life turning away from things that hurt my eyes
and still had a decade of violent dreams
my grandfathers came to me in sleep
and I saw Death on a snowy TV screen
seeking asylum in the desert

But I’m keeping them green, alive

I couldn’t bring myself to watch the murder of Renee Good
and I could not stop watching Alex Pretti’s execution
all the experts say that once you start looking at the phenomena
it always looks back
in 2026, in 1984, The Eye of Barud-dûr--342 million rings to rule them all

Soon the spring will remind them why