Sport 31: Spring 2003
Nice Morning for It, Adam
Nice Morning for It, Adam
I tend to look at the gardener sideways—
that tidiness, the rigour of those Sunday
pathways, children laughing then crying,
the bandstand brassed with hullabaloo,
and the tulip beds which have never once
struck me as vaginas squadroned, which
shows the beats I have missed in this monde
symbolique—the gardener who eyes
it all, brings it to pass in his big
gloves, those fearsome secateurs
as if to warn us, we mundane strollers,
that exactitude, like tulips, comes at a price.