It grows in rivers, valleys, mountains, swamps, dirt, rock, on trees, amongst weeds, and through concrete. Light, air, water, and seed are it's only needs. But we prefer to primp, process, prefab, precinct, parse and poison the land. Shorten your stride and lengthen your view. It's amazing what a little perspective can do. Grocery cart or garden hose, pick your labor down cultivated rows. Retail, for sale, by the pound, aren't you proud. Sun grown, or lawn mown, in the ground, or drive to town.
Clubbed To Death
This is my soapbox. It's squarish, suitably tall, and affords me a much wider audience, and considerably less time in mental hospitals, than a conventional one.
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