roots of grass | 4.03 - 7.06 24

that we are the roots of grassto be torn out of the earthas fragile as cracked glassfull of milk and honey and dirt

how can we escape this placeand turn into cosmic spacewe are the roots of grassbut never are we afraidand never will germinate

we are the roots of grassplanted in mother planetwe never see sky, and dustnever sits on rhizome, we get it;

we aint got a single jiffto: "linger, ...!"; we are beat pieces,we buried and gloom is stiff,we fragile as hearty whistles.