aphids drink the juice from what was the cats new vision, a vision neglected, from the barnyard by the old stone foundation, the ants willed it. a leaf in 400ºF wind, wind who still permits putrefaction.

fluids swirl around the carcass, stirred by carrion-eaters and saprophytes. they all return, as by decree to the soil, walled by formaldehyde and cameras and sirens and audio detection and fear and concretion and the sun. BUT the green is still stronger so it doesnt ever matter because it is overwhelmed by joy and purpose.