Aggressive Pesto Warfare
        for A. R.

Nothing is worth hoarding but basil

outgrown its cruxes. I don’t remember

the last time I slept in a bed. Meanwhile,

my clippings settle themselves

against mint. Each pot invades

its neighbor. I don’t know their names:

creeper, ground cover, or simply not another

sleeping bag. My friends don’t know

each other. Sometimes they visit,

intro themselves over a miracle

-gro & pasta cocktail, leave

their deposits in the sink. I use

what’s left to set the home

inside my suitcase ablaze.

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Copyright © 2011 T.A. Noonan All rights reserved
from Petticoat Government
Gold Wake Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission