They clobbered the delphiniums and turned
Them underground. They made the sedum pay
For blooming late and changeably--One Plant,
One Hue, they chanted as they beat them up
And down. We named the battered garden Mud,
The sit-in by the sundial, while the birds
Enjoyed the spoils of spoliation, Worms
For Everyone. And everyone a Worm.
They came back in the spring with bitter breath
And threw their rotten carrots at the gnomes,
The real ones, elder statesmen, not ceramic
Cutiepies. They pissed on the fallen leaves.
And they looked hungry, empty hearted, spent,
As though their gods just really hadn’t cared.