It could be all the reading. Mayan history, as ancient and barbaric as
the past twenty years. Aztec history, as colorful as cayenne or
stalks of corn fashioned from gold I'm told adorned the majestic palaces
greeting the greedy conquerors. Toltecs are still prescribing.
Art is in the eye of the beholder.

Corn is gorgeous. I wish it was gold... better than gold.
You can survive eating it. Big grass. With golden hair.

Off all the vegetables, Corn is the prettiest to grow.
Soybeans are downright ugly.

Alright now, I have an inner teacher. I have met children who do not
know... strawberries grow. Rain comes from the sky and rivers.
Peas and spinach are spring crops. I have known adults thinking
the cans of veggies grow on trees.

In my small way here is a view of
what nature does/is.
an illustration of
what my ancestors did. I am old enough to remember
my great-grandmother standing in the back of an old truck
filled with strawberries she picked that morning --
grandpa was driving. She could call out: "Strawwwwwwwwwberrrrrriessssss"
to be heard a block away.

This crop came from a vacant lot next door to her sister's, My
great aunt Laura, they all saved for a cabin up north on the
Tippicanoe River near Monterey in the corner of three counties.

I suspect my brothers and sister would all agree it was one
of the better times of our young living.
Grandma and grandpa were
dears and entertaining.
I can not imagine at this time in
my life taking on the custody of four children.

We fished and learned embroidery. We watched Perry Mason.
We visited farmers. Swam in the Maxinkuckee.
Hunted arrowheads.

I wonder where one fishes these days.
Years ago a 'friend' took me fishing for my birthday.
A full moon May21st. lord.
He took me to a pay lake
across the street from the sewage treatment plant!
I was extremely disappointed.
When I stopped noticing the smell of worse than shit--
I had him take me home. My brain had been affected.
I couldn't smell worse than shit.
I caught the most catfish anyway. Moot point.
I can fish. I can also smell.
no way jose would I eat something that came from waters
across the street from all the toilet bowls in a city of almost
a million.

I did deep water fish in Long Island years ago
with a couple pals from Esalen. 40 miles from Manhattan;
The blue heron looked alive
and kicking. So I ate those fish. I live.

The corn is an expression of poetry for the earth.
I don't especially like it.
when you eat it on the cob sometimes the kernals
wind up across the table. It gets stuck in my teeth.
It is hard to digest which is why the toilet bowl is, well never
mind. (Proof of not chewing?)