D.O.P.-T. (yesterday)

[weofodthignen]

That sad-looking house in the neighborhood that sold for an eyepopping sum last year after the weed patch in front, long guarded by an enigmatic row of full water bottles, was obliterated under cedar chips ... the weeds are rising again, in geometric lines where the sheets of black plastic meet, and marching inwards to meet each other like a chorus line.