what’s a garden but a prison
where desires run amok
against their time
men dream sublime
nudge around a muck
bidden to their homes
little garden gnomes
bound to their land
with hoe in hand
grinding weary bones
am I the happy one
alone beneath the tree
i planted here
to shade my beer
survey my property
second story of my neighbor
overlooks surveys my labor
if I expense
a higher fence
finally I can savor
but airplanes fly above
disturb my little naps
an ordinance
solves discordance
by setting legal traps
pedestrians with dogs
shit up my little walks
so gate the roads
and interpose
more walls of rough-hewn rocks
finally alone
my wife she starts to moan
we have no friends
a divorce ends
her mendacious needling tone
my dreams they are all present
life’s never been more pleasant
a desert’s peace
oasis’ lease
end joy’s effervescence
in permanence I bronze
upon my conquered throne
a little year
’til cancer clears
the Last Man from his home
