unattended flowers

she’s lost
her formerly level mind
without your
fertilizer and
take my water
one day she feels
bathes in light the next she
summons the dark
she assumes volumes
between rows
of unadvertised
woes
and takes it upon herself
to mulch my vines
such a thorny old bush
now she has begun to lose
her petals
a victim of the divorce
she skips wreckless rocks
across my well walled soul
attempting to cause a ripple
in an indifferent pond
she blames me
for your departure
see she always hoped
in her retired womb
you’d bring her back home
remind her someone still
wanted her northern nectar
she’s a flick of the
wrist away
from being gone forever
but perhaps you
should hammer
that trellis back up
i would prefer
she piss up your
rope
obsess her stream upon your tree
instead of mine
i make
no apologies for collagen
or timely fecundity
i’ll catch hell for writing
this but who cares
i already have
her pot calling my kettle black
all satellite broadcasts come
from the south
one more footnote in the ever
growing
big book
of irony
what’s one more never visited
grave in an inevitable
well manicured cemetery