Chicken poop that is. Yep, manure is the popular scent this Spring, at least to the horticulturally minded. I'm top dressing my garden and spreading in actuality what life has been spreading metaphorically for the past few months. Fertilizing always makes me wonder how stuff that smells so bad that your eyeballs fry and your nose hairs fall out can turn into roses and apples? Magic, huh. Now I'm hoping the rest of the poop in my life turns up roses too. A multibook deal perhaps. Heck, who am I kidding? At this point the margin in a schoolboy's notepad would do.
Spring is sprung,
the poops been flung,
and here I'm standing in the dung
The birdies tweet
And flowers smell sweet
But I can't say the same for my dung-clung feet.
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4 comments:
Oh my. The smell of chicken poop makes me hurl. Bad childhood incident...
So you ran foul of a fowl did you?
BigBoy loved it!
You sound just like my mother. She calls me every spring, exhausted and happy to tell me she's been shoveling sh*t all day.
Gardeners. You're all mad.
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