Poem: Tree Fucker


People might be inclined

To call me a tree-hugger

But I consider such nomenclature

A tad too reductive

My intimate connection with trees

Extends beyond mere hugging

Call me

Tree hugger

Tree Kisser

Tree Fondler

Tree Fucker

Sometimes I might

Go into the woods


Getting drunk on a broth of flowers

Wake up the next day

Sapped and exhausted

With a pile of deflowered timber

Lying impregnated beside me

It’s thirsty work

Keeping all these forests fertilized

But somebody’s got to do it

So shoot me while you can



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