This is what happens
when you start making up
your own mind:
the tree drops its tantalizing fruit,
sheds its leaves, & the woodlot
shrinks around it
until it stands alone in a line
of fence posts & telephone poles,
trembling neurons sifting the wind for sparrows.
You become as gods,
simple as stinkhorns.
In place of paradise
there’s a field, a pasture,
a dishy blankness of sky.
Dave Bonta (bio) crowd-sources his problems by following his gut, which he shares with 100 trillion of his closest microbial friends — a close-knit, symbiotic community comprising several thousand species of bacteria, fungi, and protozoa. In a similarly collaborative fashion, all of Dave’s writing is available for reuse and creative remix under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 United States License. For attribution in printed material, his name (Dave Bonta) will suffice, but for web use, please link back to the original. Contact him for permission to waive the “share alike” provision (e.g. for use in a conventionally copyrighted work).