Wed Dec 29 1999


A small clump of dirt nurtures the seed
and feeds it so it grows arms
and, bursting into the air, the hot sun
threatens to burn it, and pulls it upwards.

And so it grows, this little weed,
and spreads itself widely,
wierdly, until it engulfs the ground
and all that were not one with the seed.

Soon there will be more seed, more seed,
and none shall escape, and all will embrace.
For we are the dirt that feeds it,
all is flim, and the spawn.


Copyright © 1995-2010 Conrad Parker <>. Last modified Tue Feb 19 2002