10.12.10

the tomato jungle in my backyard is a mess, the fruits resting on the ground, colors gradating from bright citron to bruised purple red. i don't have much of a green thumb, or a propensity for responsibility. the stakes my roommate bought for the explicit purpose of making sense of the garden are leaning in the corner by the back door, neglected. they stand next to a bag of potting soil; lack of garden shed turns the kitchen into a catch-all for tools and equipment, so i'm constantly reminded of the tasks i'm shirking.