burry the script under the tree where it will rot

and the birds will shit on it and the dogs piss

and unwitting girls sing merrily oblivious

to the toxic words on the pages

beneath their feet in the grass

the lovely cool creekside grass

shaded in the shade of the trees above

who's leaves fall peacefully to the earth on slight drafts

swirling overhead in the breezes

to the delight of the bugs seen and unseen

going their way in the world unnoticed