“Why would you write a fictional autobiography? She asked, and I wanted to say, “You’re doing it right now, everything we put into words
“I just call them Morning Glories,” a different she said,
I couldn’t say, “Hedgebind Weed tastes better, twists together, rolls the whole garden, ties everything into knots, a physical manifestation of what reductionists call neurochemical hallucination.
While those of us who have been bound, rolled over, become plants, with flowers for eyes, our bare skeletons a simple calcified trellis,
all our hopes, desires, accomplishments, and failures, worm food, a rich substrate for future riotous growth,
don’t know how else, to say it.”
Well y’all, that’s it for today. A shout out to the newbies, welcome. If you figure out what’s going on here, please be sure to let us know.