On The Last Day Of The World

Obviously A Garden Is Not The Wilderness But An Assembly Of Shapes, Most Of Them Living, That Owes Some Share Of Its Composition, It’s Appearance, To Human Design And Effort, Human Conventions And Convenience, And The Human Pursuit Of That Elusive, Indefinable Harmony That We Call Beauty. It Has A Life Of Its Own, An Intricate, Willful, Secret Life, As Any Gardener Knows. It Is Only The Humans In It Who Think Of It As A Garden. But A Garden Is A Relationship, Which Is One Of The Countless Reasons Why It Is Never Finished.

There Are Aspects Of Human Life That Are Not Purely Destructive, And There Is A Need To Pay Attention To The Things Around Us While They Are Still Around Us. And You Know, In A Way, If You Don't Pay That Attention, The Anger Is Just Bitterness.

There Are Poets Who Believe That You Shouldn't Engage At All In Any Cause. And There's Something To Be Said For That. Because You Don't Want To - I Think Most Political Poetry Is Very Bad. And It's Very Bad Because You Know Too Much To Start With. You Have A Sense That You're Right, And You're Trying To Tell Other People What's Right. And I Think That's Always Kind Of Fundamentalism, And I Don't Like It.

The Moment We Turn Over The Soil We Start Poisoning It And We Go On Poisoning It All The Way Through... And There's Probably Not A River In The United States That Doesn't Have Pesticide Poisoning In It. The Fish Are Dying. The Seas Are Getting Polluted. All Of These Things Are Happening. The Rain Forests Are Going. That's What The Context Is.

My Cradle Was A Shoe.