the compost heap
            “Let us cultivate our garden.”
        
     
    
            
    
        
    
        ideas of order
            I’m just trying to make space for new possibilities.
        
     
    
            
    
        
    
        living in the wreckage
            It is a place where I hide myself from myself.
        
     
    
            
    
        
    
        believing what is not true
            I thought I was “over that.”
        
     
    
            
    
        
        
    
        Brooklyn’s oldest remaining forest
            I just want to learn to really see what’s there.
        
     
    
            
    
        
    
        practice
            It is a way of figuring out how to live.
        
     
    
            
    
        
    
        on purpose
            I feel like I’m at sea in a very small boat.
        
     
    
            
    
        
    
        effortlessly
            Why am I doing this to myself?
        
     
    
            
    
        
    
        hello, boredom, my old friend . . .
            Boredom protects the individual from what?