Eau de Compost

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You know that corner at the bottom of the garden?

Next to the chookpen and overshadowed 

by the gum tree?

We’ve been talking about doing something with it

for three years now –

cubbyhouse for the kids,

shed for my tools that are still in cardboard boxes,

shed for storing all our old stuff

that we can’t throw away.

Lovely thoughts, but all just talk.

Let’s do something.

Now.

I want to shove my hands into the organic waste

of potato peeling, greasy greaseproof paper,

sour milk, used tea bags,

last night’s dinner,

porridge the kids didn’t want,

burnt bits from the bottom of the frying pan,

egg shells, orange pulp,

and let the mess squelch through my fingers

like a private swamp.

I want to rub it on my face

and use it as moisturiser to make my skin

soft, clear and smooth.

Not to mention that scent –

eau de compost. Rare and imported.

Let’s make a compost heap and call it ours.

In the bottom corner of the garden,

worms can have their paradise,

I can have my private swamp,

and we can all smell of

eau de compost.

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