A Perennial Orgy

I prefer to gaze at my Eden through this veil of screens. There, the miracle of sun and bloom explodes with delight over my stoned edges. But...ponder me first before venturing once more unto that breach, for there, in the bowels of hosta and fern lurk the humping beetle larvae, phantom chompers, and coal ink gorging rot, all in roiling orgy, within my manicured lines. And, were I not a steward of the natural order, I would Rambo myself into the fray with bandoleers of bug cannons and porcupine piss grenades. Poised like a Spartan at the hot gates. my doomed, flowing locks fluttering in the blaze until the carnivorous Paraná fleas hollow me out from within and I fall like straw man turned delicately to bed. cloistered again behind screen and wicker, very non-Spartan like, relentlessly resigned to trowel and tribulation