I Killed My Plant

I killed my plant

Jordan Kaye


I killed my plant
while tending to yet another.
I killed my friend and his brother.
I learned to laugh again while leaning
on something holy like
the empire state or something.
I laughed and laughed as I
lent my gaze to the
cuerpos destrozados,
the flaccid forms of my kin.
Gunned down by yours truly,
they were teeming with neurosis.
These victims of mine
were teeming with objectivities-
observations far too fine.

I needed something holy- like
to lay my thoughts to rest,
something to silence and suffice,
to germinate my siege of the botanic.

The speechwriters, those fucking scoundrels,
never got the chance
to address the state of my union.
I killed my plant.




“I can’t come down,
it’s plain to see.
I can’t come down,
I’ve been set free.”
--J. Garcia