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.