Nature in the city is one of the least surprising things one can imagine. It has been condensed down and systematized into plots, parks, and plots of mud or gravel. I sat scrunched over my small patch of mud that I call my back yard for twenty minutes. I smelled the stink of the main road twenty feet from where I sat. The screech of airplanes coming in to land at the airport a mile form my house flew over my ears and out of my head. Are cats considered nature? One just s*** in my little patch of mud. I see a small patch of green moss growing up in one corner of this depressing establishment. Maby it will have a smell different from exhaust. The train gos by again and I can hear nothing of my nature. She is being strangled. I put my nose to the small triumphant patch of moss hoping to catch some glimpse of the Forrest, of nirvana, of harmony. It smells like cat piss. A mosquito lands on my arm and I see hundreds of its children in a muddy puddle next to me. I cant feel it bite, but when I smack it it bursts red with my blood. Maby now ill be lucky enough to die of the west Nile virus. This is so depressing. I look up at the sky, the clouds are thick and block out the sun. Everything is Grey like in old films, puffy b******s hang above me without even the common courtesy to piss on my little block of nature. My cat rubs up against my leg and purr's, it wants me to pick up the string. If I played with it with grass maby I could call it an example of nature. My poor blind dog curl's up next to me sniffling and grunting, perking his head up at the sound of road rage drivers, as if he could do something about it. His fur is matted together and stinks. Id wash him but it isn’t natural. I here nature gasp for air in a single chime of a bird. Then nothing. One of my cats must have caught it. For the first time since I quit I want a cigarette, this is so depressing, like watching someone being beaten to death with pillows, slow, and joyless even though I should find humor in it. Maby if I smoke the moss it will count as part of the assignment, maby the cat piss it smells like will get me high. Maby my mud hole is a blessing. Maby I shouldn’t have so many cats that piss on it.
nature in the city
February 17, 2011