Ecce Mortis: The Lovesong of Prudence Plantwoman

free young memory impinged upon by memory she will fly away from green-thumbs graduated ROTC Air Force paid for school now six years due The Nation six years she will fly beyond her memories over The Nation over The City

trees, birds, flowers all things green living destiny blue sky not that she does not like plants or Life as Plantwoman it’s a job a summer gig until her “papers” come from Central Command her orders and she leaps from gray-black asphalt to azure sky

free muscular tank top, short-shorts jeans, t-shirts swimmer, gymnast gone through Basic Freshman year sexual animal we’re all animals she makes no bones about “getting boned” she calls it “boned” she calls it it it it it it it itititititit

dubbed “Plantwoman” birth name grounded letting smoke blow perfect nostrils dragon lady scissors, bucket military bearing ass to die for and a kiss in corridors under Greenman gargoyles elevators, lonely corners she bears fruit and cigarettes remembers The Nation and her drunken Dad nobody nothing, nothing in The Nation but her determination, mission applied to work sex never far behind

photograph of her, The Colonel she calls “Ma’am,” and another lieutenant (for that was the rank Plantwoman attained) nude in a tub bare legs hung lax over the edge toenails bright magenta “military baring” read the black ink caption Plantwoman will die for The Nation if called to do her duty

The Nation educated her The Nation trained her to fly twenty hours a week in uniform earned her degree Political Science Enemy languages mother-lode of math she’ll fly but earthbound she tends plants military rigor anomalously wedded to loving care mother earth/earth mother feminist volunteer Student Sexuality Information Service “keep your laws off my body”

derrière her boxer shorts worn outside — fly sewn sealed — in summer night and black boots to her knees muscular thighs watch her clip, water, poke bare fingers sodden soil poison, occasionally, at client’s request:

“we have ants. . . on our desks…you must exterminate…the ants”

no heart to kill direct drop bombs for The Nation two miles high like pitching pennies wishing well

“I’m not some reactionary killer freak, just had to pay for school” she said.

she said, “women…special with plants we first cultivated relationship we fed the tribe the matriarchy before all this…” swept her arm around The City. Then, “Hey, Plantman, wanna learn some ‘fertilization techniques’?”

Forward. Young. Out night “boned.” Someone other than Me. Naturally.

Meeting at Main Office Victor singled Plantwoman, “stellar job.”  Air Force taught her well, if not The University.

She didn’t think much of “The Trojan Women” Euripides not woman enough for her.

Sympathetic pout sometime coquettish. Raunchy volatile licentious fearful, on occasion, of THE WRONG THING, then confident to fly silver planes over the World.

Lieutenant Plantwoman Ma’am. character complex.

Quick Time Guns of August Papers came soon overseas I bought coffee looked up at buildings from the Court of Food, where we lunched Days the week

“what does it say about The Citizens that they need shrubbery in urns to calm them through the day, like wall-paper or the soft upholstery of cubicle walls?” she asked

disciplined sex wild landscaper wrestled Life with grim determination duty bound fly to The War

“Tie me up, why don’t you tie me up!”

she gave herself to passion gave completely animal abandon beside her I felt tiny like the bugs we sprayed like The Enemy below the silver fighters of The Nation

back to the Network Chat Room digital desperate solace: Mar3Sh311y

“I miss her the smell of her—” I typed.

“Pheromones,” wrote Mar3Sh311y.

“Distinctive scent. Meant to seduce. Like perfume of a flower.”

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