Flowers in absurdity
O look! Flower! Wonder!
There the flower, small and holy,
Sits with infinity without worry or time to think about nothing,
What do you see, gentle little product of the sex of that industrious spider plant?
What is there in your beauty?
How are you? I stare
The flower is ignorant and lovely and I love it
There the flower is the flower and is loving it and cares not
For its failings and approaching death and
I don’t care either
Because there is endless flowers in the park and forever a flower in my mind,
Always beauty amazing lovely
And still smiling beholding the flower.