after Marie Kondo
Everything was alive.
To be alive is the condition of having some inner order.
For instance, the soft pink erasers
I set everything in its living place.
A graham cracker shuddered with ants,
tuned like throats singing two tones at once,
while outside, other children's feet
I thanked my quiet shoes.
I thanked my socks so did not bind them together.
I thanked my primordial fish.
that plated body from ocean onto muck,
I breached the skin of air
There: the horizon oriented
Live oaks make such sloppy packages.
They have more room to breathe that way.
"The Ariadne's thread of botany is system, without which botany is chaos."