Topsoil bomber

Thanks to Fidel Fernando for sharing his work on Unsplash


By BOB SCHILDGEN*


My finest accomplishment–not that I’m burdened with choices
in this department–is the creation
of five-hundred cubic feet of topsoil,
with the aid of billions of unidentified micro-organisms,
and earthworms churning through the compost,
and several rabbits who worked with uncommon dedication
to contribute manure and maintain morale:
Myrtle, who passed away of old age–
Habermas, who was murdered by a pit bull
that ripped the bottom from his cage–
Sartre, who perished suddenly from unknown causes,
and Derrida, who is uncommonly fond of dandelions.
Five hundred cubic feet of topsoil from sheer waste,
to enrich a garden, transform to food and flower
orange peels, tea leaves, clippings, weeds,
a bonsai Mount Fuji of compost power.
The world needs all the compost it can get.
Topsoil made us what we are,
without it we simply don’t exist,
which is an earnest modern way to say
God did indeed make Adam out of clay.

Imagine a world transformed by compost,
fertile, abundant, fecundant reckless green.
Imagine cargo ships loaded with topsoil
for every compost-craving corner of the world.
Imagine nuclear submarines distributing topsoil!
Military transport planes packed with topsoil!
Precision missiles delivering topsoil exactly where most needed.
Aircraft carriers piled high with topsoil!
Bombers dropping two-ton bombs of topsoil!
Preemptive strikes of topsoil,
weapons of mass destruction buried
under thousands of feet of steaming compost!
Imagine composters in every land, tending peaceful heaps,
singing in a vast harmony of regeneration.
Down slopes of compost comes the world’s salvation.

*From Hey Mr Green, Sierra Magazine, May 25, 2010; reprinted for educational and informative purposes.