![[2-devil-of-the-garden-sound.mp3]] you prune out last year’s overgrowth, the toxic petals - who planted those anyways? - and the weeds, tearing the roots that have overstayed their welcome, until you meet the one that resists your touch - the devil of the garden - annoyed, you go to the hardware store and get a weed whacker and come back and bring the blade deliciously close to the interloper, but why do you stop and wonder - which is more merciful, to let it live or die? why do i feel the decision is not mine? <br> ## field notes this was the first good poem i wrote before i took any classes, mainly because it was the first literary form that found me. a short prose-like narration, inspired by [thom eagle](https://tinyletter.com/psychogastronomy). my first three words were first [his first three words](https://tinyletter.com/psychogastronomy/letters/wincheap-ii). this is also only of the only poems i've shared with people in real life - like at the bar in gowanus or on a boat in miami - and gotten live reactions. thanks to my coworker james for the generous reading and suggesting i replace "offender" with "interloper." well, we did it :) audio is inspired by [PROM's Why do I do this to myself](https://open.spotify.com/track/3WDFwbWqEzd1grS4j0RcXa?si=acc6bda9d422433f) but a less cool less complex version because i'm a noob and i can't make anything original that's good, yet.