People
have
set up
maypoles;
I resolve
to hide.
I count
myself
a perfect
stone of
heaven,
a park
without
a gate,
a pistol
for pins.
In my
cabin
writing,
I hear
a great
rose
drown
in the
streets.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 1 May 1660.
Symbiotic community of bacteria,fungi,and protozoa not only sounds crowded , conflicted but antagonistic to outside in(flu)ence.
Take it up with evolution.