I sit and pick seedlings from the earth like chicken from my teeth.  My eyes stay closed.  I feel the green of maple seeds, crashed helicopters.  I smell death.  Behind me he slaughters chickens.  Stretches their necks on a tree stump.  Butcher knife guillotine.  Heads pile in a once white bucket.  I pick my teeth blind.

Birds in nests and worms
in birds in nests sing songs
in a tree above me.