The Garden

The garden’s a tangle of thistle and thorn,

Sharp things grow in the overgrown lawn.

Prickles scratch, nettles sting;

A stab or a bite in everything.

The slugs have smeared the grass with glue,

The ditch is bubbling, a poisonous brew.

Blow flies buzz around my head,

They smell the meat, they think I’m dead.

Gangs of carnivorous spiders creep

Across the corpse of the compost heap.

Everything sucks or bites or gnaws,

The noseeums have giant jaws.

Mosquitos big as vampire bats,

The rhubarb hides a nest of rats.

Bloated leeches in the pond,

Famished things in the woods beyond.

Gobble, gobble, gobble,

Munch, munch, munch,

Everything is hungry and is 

Looking for a lunch.