My favorite Spring flowers
are the tiny purple ones.
Though the little white ones
are really nice, too,
but I guess the color
isn’t really important.
Because my favorite Spring flowers
are the ones
that appear suddenly
where they aren’t supposed to be.
In the grassy medians
between the sidewalk and the street,
In the still snow-desecrated flowerbeds
that lay dormant and dead,
Or in the barren patches of dirt
where even the brown grass
won’t venture.
My favorite Spring flowers
are the ones that spread their faces
to the sun well before
their carefully manicured cousins,
well before the spade
and potting soil graces the scene.
The ones that jump out and say
“Screw all this wintery bullshit!
We’ve had enough of all that!”
I am always predisposed
to love things that are in the wrong place
at the right time,
the little surprises that thrust themselves
into your life where they don’t seem to belong
because you haven’t yet realized
that you needed them to be there.
I must be quite the sight
like something
out of a horror/comedy
here
in early spring
dressed in head-to-toe black
grinning like an idiot
at patches of tiny crocuses
scattered about a neighborhood yard.
But it’s not a surprising reaction
if you think about it,
despite my shunning of bright colors
Newly sprouted crocuses
are some
of the punkest shit
you will ever see!
No one tells
those little assholes
what to do!
They blitzkrieg the landscape
popping up outta nowhere
shaking up the mainstream
everywhere and anywhere
they damn well please.
They are
brilliant nonconformists
inserting themselves among
identical blades
of grass in the masses of
typical American lawns
They gather into
floral mosh pits
in those sketchy patches of dirt
where no respectable plants
would ever be caught dead
Some even party in Flower beds
claiming the right to exist
in those reserved spaces
and Mocking the Uppity gentile denizens
that have yet to be planted there.
Like I said,
PUNKEST.
SHIT.
EVER!!!
And when winter tries to put them down
with a last minute frost or blasts of snow
they wait it out and throw up a giant floral
bird flip, saying “Down with Old Man Winter’s
stark patriarchy!
Now is the time of rainbows and chaos!
We will be seen
and nothing is going to keep us down!”
Who among us can see all that
and not smile?
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