I am the pig of the evergreens. I advise against petting me.

When paired with head I’m messy and unruly, quite unkempt In rivers, lakes, the sea, embracing treasures that may tempt I’m also rather bawdy, older slang for dirty deed From gardens to your very plate, there’s always stuff on me

I plummet low but do not break, and rise but never fly While I myself cannot be seen, it’s my effects you spy With several ways to measure but in truth there’s mainly two I only seem to disappear when I’m the same as you

I push you out of bed and launch the cat. I bubble up where the earth takes a breath. I mark new starts and thaw old maps.

Sweetness crushed underfoot. The smell of neglect. Or, the imperative.