Kitchens of Distinction Follow

I leave my screams in the hole of a tree
Leave my woes in its poisoned leaves
Poor tree, its sap thick with my dull life's sicknesses

I greet the tree each sorrowful day
To leave my horrors and then walk away
My skin smooths over, my wrinkles clear, and I can sleep

The poor tree pulls its branches down to weep
Weighted down with sorrows deep
Poor tree

I used to hunt for its shape in the copse
Now to the violent park I coolly walk
It's easy to see the burdened tree, it rots

It's wounded by my petty discontents
But I refuse to let the poor tree be
I expect to find it dead, the scream hole scabbed
And a nearby sapling in dread

The poor tree pulls its branches down to weep
Weighted down with sorrows deep
Poor tree

I have begun to fear the trees revenge
I know it's called out for wolves and crows
To make a bony necklace of me
So I can no longer horrify its roots

The poor tree, when the lights go down low
Calls for the company of crows
Wolves/crows, great carnivores
To gnaw me into carnival bones