From rocky soil it came
from next to nothing
stretched on the rack of its genome
the pain of its talent running through it
embracing the legs of the decking for comfort
unidentified no immediate family
exiled from the chatter of annual plantings
not much in common with the cavalier flowering perennials
even the sun said Whoever you are
I am not made of money
everything it owned strapped to its body
arm over arm in its wet clothes
it hauled itself to the second-floor balcony
and where it spread out redistributed its weight
like a traveller on a platform.
the structure’s joints creaked
and the muscles stood out in the nails
had they let it it would have scaled the house
to stand on the roof where God might notice
what had been accomplished in his absence
would have torn the house down and stood on the ruin
tossing its hook at the downspout of heaven
they pruned it its strength of conviction redoubled
cut it back to the trunk
a litter of tendrils wobbled out
razed it to the ground a shoot appeared
like a prisoner through a manhole
they had to eradicate it at the level of the idea
but here
