Beeline for the Wet Spot

The year was harsh on the ground
Hot air would bloat horses into camels
Everyone had bonnets or hats wide & found
The more skin shade the less of moans
My ribs stuck out from lack of rashers
So I took my water outside to strengthen the land
To nourish the dirt when I passed it
Thinking of corn & lilies holding still my hand.

Soon I finished from selfless scrub watering
When I heard a rustle as I closed the door
The bush moving about with branches waving
I went to see if there was a ram I could get from God.
Some wrinkled vegetables out of the bushes broke
They ran on roots & had taken my piss to soak
Left over on my pant leg they saw as food
I ran for my life in fear did I shout
Like mosquitos they may do more than hum.
But caught I was tumbled down, pummeled at
They took my wet spot & left a smelling smaller hat.