Be My Guest / Spreading The Love / Week 5 / Day 2
sounds shared by M.R. Klemchuk
Patti Smith Group - Radio Ethiopia - Distant Fingers
[ mestengo ]
Original words by [HEATHER E.C. KOUROS ]
Reap what you sow, that’s what they say. I gather seeds in my hands, but watch them all blow away with my bad brain. Waiting in vain with the patient gardeners.
Reap what you sow, that’s how it goes. She keeps her plants in little egg containers under her covers, even though the starts always die when she puts them outside. I kiss away her sadness with soft caresses, while she cries for lost sunflowers.
I watched you from the window, while you tore out the invasive trees with your hands. Stained shirts with sweat, fresh, and you thought it was rebirth with every death on your hands. But you’d always miss the roots, and the walls would get cold while the growth settled in. Teetering around on a tight rope tower picking pits out of your mouth while you feasted on the peaches.
Reap what you sow, but I want to know what they do with the bad seeds. We’re not starting from scratch, you know, born into this world with little packets pressed neat between our teeth. And what about the things grafted into our skin, burned into the back of our brains?
I dug a heavy metal truck, drunk, out of a creek-bed all those years ago where they found such good soil. The ground caved in around me, and the mountain rubble ran like rain over my face.
If I could, I would make you fertile again, and I would wash your feet like those who’ve washed me, in the bathtub, wholly whole and ready for growth.