Poetry
The Power of Movement in Plants
Keith Flynn
Something went wrong on the operating table
as the scientists
struggled to design
a more contemporary daisy
and the people outside were peeking in the window
on the prowl for celebrities
and three Haitians
with hands like feathers
were playing hide the pea
stringing pearls together by their hope of paradise
and everyone leaned rhyming forward
ready to audition the daisy
and one scientist filled with savage thoughts
of apostasy kept screaming GARBO ZOMBIES MAMBO
like some kind of weird mantra
and a picket line of erotic children
danced in a circle
saying everything unfinished is a kindred spirit
and snapdragons groaned
in the brawl of a dry thicket
and the critics with honeymoon elbow
cruised the corridors in complete confusion
saying ten days before Christmas
Hollywood needs the daisy
and the tension was unbearable
as the scientists built on the will of the people
presiding over the death of history
and the saints of reason lusting in earnest
whispered centuries of rebellion
and the agnostics in their blind alleys trembled
and from its deep murky well
the great daisy like a ghost woman whose face was the sun
issued forth
its enormous petals unfolding
and crickets like dark angels
leaped singing from the buildings in ruin
and the kingdom of flowers hardened against the shadows
and the roar
of the daisy
was louder than a thousand dawns
and the sound of its voice was a scar.