Sent: 3/18/2005 2:45 PM
i have become a slave to the
boll weevils in my egyptian cotton
i am accustomed to their burning holes
in my ecru to crimson flowers
their gripping hooks from green
leaf to swollen budding seed
injecting long needled snouts
to suck life from my field
i no longer am surprised when their
eggs laid multiply into plague
my dying fruit their crib and milk
before they blossom into a new swarm
leaving my puffy snow white fruition dead
never to be born shown or known
bound i pray, let my harvest grow
