Bamboo Blossoms

when bamboo flowers, famine follows

 

those flowers bring the rats

every thirty years or so

the rats devour it all

flooding the landscape

squirming black appetites

bequeathing us disease

 

we dwelt in phapian paradise

shrouded by our excesses

as the flowers poked carmine noses

out of stalks that lingered

relegated to the garden

gratuitous satanic clockwork

 

we knew we were doomed when

the bamboo leaked indoors

a suffocating canopy

stalks snaking up furniture

angry roots in the carpet

catching ankles and breaking toes

 

once it’s here you can never be rid of it

you have to tear it out by the roots

or burn down the damned house

 

relinquish your sackcloth and gather the ash:

hold it in your cankered hands

it is more precious than gold

it is more filling than dirt

it is more natural than sin

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