Taunted
Mary Winters
Important plan: get some dirt,
bare earth, some naked dust;
press your body to it, back and
forth, over and over, but such lay
no good where sod comes on a truck,
thick rolls of rough green spears
superimposed: wall-to-wall carpet
hacked to fit the curves and corners,
nailed ear-splitting into place.
No good where grass like hair
spray-painted onto balding spot --
(hard-aging neighbor's tack);
must be ur-turf unimproved: ground
sniffed out behind rented house but
slant and spiky pebbles fought
you off, both hid at first by
stone-cold violets. Must be
land used real: ancient Cape Cod
cemetary -- mosquitoes rose
right up, made you spurn a further
bond. Too late, my dear: both
evolution and a constant city-dwelling --
your lust for dirt a fooling crust,
your love for earth just painted on.
