Come rest your weary
But lazy
Heads and hands
For just about a minute thirty
Under my shadow
That comes past noon.

Come sit on a stool,
Come sit on a bench,
Come lie down
On the cheese grater
And stare at the ridiculously clear blue skies
Of October.

I shall cause your mouths to overflow with words
As green as my leaves,
As tall as everything of me,
As harmful as my falling rotten fruits,
As deep as my root's embrace of the land,
And as cool and comforting as my shade.

For I am worthless

I only bear edible fruit
In the summer
When no one is around, and
My limbs tend to overflow to the halls and walls
So they severe it occasionally
And just dispose.
Ants create trails on my body
Traversing my height in spirals
So be careful not to come too close.

I am worthless
But for the times you spend with me.

I do not want to conform
I do not want to be relevant
I do not want to be common
I do not want to be routine

I was not made for those kind of things
I was not made for the temporary
I was not made for the substitutes
I was not made for the limited

I was made for more
and more I will be