Sweet Neglect Poetry by Kenneth Pobo
I tell myself to weed despite an angry sun, mope, listen to Porter Wagoner sing about cheating winos. Nasty teachers, mosquitoes always want to make a point—on my skin. So I stay in for days. Until, I just go at it, bed to bed, tear weeds out like I’m tearing hair off the Earth’s head. I uncover a ﬂamingo ﬂower plant in a glass pot--in perfect health! Four red little boys pop up from thick shiny leaves. All winter it sulked on the sill. Now restored, they bask in neglect.