things grow

THE TALE OF THE VINE

The vine climbed the drain
It wanted to hear the man play Bach
The man finally died of old age
The vine, it stayed, and the stone silence
Turned it yellow and cold

One day punk rockers moved in
Squatting there to be Zen
The loud punk warehouse
Got on some of their nerves
The vine revived to the vibe
Of their vibrant vegetarian vibration
Until the kids tore it down to hang from
In a mass punk suicide

Peter Joseph Swanson