If you miss fresh air, buy it canned for eight bucks.
Who even liked cicada song?
It’s much better now without all that mess
Your favorite color was neon anyway
We have rocks. They’re smooth and square.
Our plants are all useful
Come on now, you want to rake leaves?
Nobody misses the wild.
**a bad poem about how crazy i feel when i talk about conservation and ecology around people who don’t care!!!!!**

















