EVERGREEN

12th, January, 12:34
Of all the lot, I was the Douglas fir you carried up the stairs in December, worshipped for the season. Now, my dried needles gather at the foot of our bed. You sweep them into the rug pile with your feet-roots like snow angels. Out of ritual, infrequently, you stroke me; water my reservoir while whispering regrets into my trunk’s carcass.

18th, January, 14:06
You make me into a catchall stand for worn, but not quite dirty t-shirts. Two belts hang from my remaining burls. I’m happy again. To be transformed from ornament to service, I stand a little straighter, proud in my decay. You keep me, instead of buying a heinous metal coat tree that’s been mass produced and flat packed.

22nd, January, 20:19
I spend your birthday in the corner. Single-stalked, a barren bar of delaminating bark, I am barely here. But soon, I must be curb-bound and welcome the release.

2nd, February, 23:56
I stare at your new lover while she eyes me from the glow of her cellphone before falling back onto our bed. She seems like a clumsy idiot. But you don’t seem to mind. You chase her with your mouth and rub your bark against hers. My first instinct is jealousy until I realize that this is a performance art piece. Obviously, I symbolize planned obsolescence and sexual consumption. Through this poignant work, you allow me to transcend utility—to be respected, immortalized.