Wild Roses

There is no reason to not climb that fence

and find where the wild roses grow

no reason to not be drunk, no reason

to not think no reason no care no season

like wild rose season, where they grow

fat and red behind the fence;

When she left she packed my restraint

in with her other nick-knacks and

drove off, now there’s no reason to

not eat the toadstools that grow

in the dark under the trees, behind

the fence they smell like death 

where the wild roses grow;

I climb, I feel that old wood under my fingers

throwing slivers but no reason to not think

no reason to not drink, she took my care

and left me here, dreaming of roses.