Romeo Naces Poet Rhyme

Malarial Pottery

something in so-called modern
     landscaping amuses me no end,
          be it in plush mansions, resorts
               or some cottages round the bend;

seems that to residents who fancy
     themselves as aesthetically cultured,
          a well-mown grassy lawn is never
               considered artistically manicured

unless there are antique-looking
     pots and jars scattered around
          which must be slightly cracked
               and partly sunken in the ground,

like accidentally unearthed markers
     for a mummified queen's jewelry,
          but to ordinary plumbers like me,
               this is a health-risky, silly mystery;

the pots and jars breed bad skitters
     that inject malaria into your artery,
          insects don't care if you majored
               in archaeology, minored in pottery.

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