remember when you lived here
the land was lush
lubricated and fresh
things were wet;
yes, that's the best way to say it.
wet.
fertile, thriving hills
and valleys
what a beautiful landscape,
you said.
remember when you moved.
the trees, fallen
trunks decayed
the carbon stopped long ago.
nothing squirms
occasional weed, broken glass, bones
bleached from the sun
barren.
you tried pouring whisky on it once and made it worse.
drier, even.
i wonder what you do in a desert; maybe pray for rain.
see how that works.
