To get the tomato plant to bear fruit,
they say to yank it a little, shake it up.
It takes a balanced measure of feeding

plus stress to blossom.   Now inundated
with rain, the plants and weeds shoot up
taller and taller, but many lack flower buds.   

Those that open, burn in the occasional glaring
sunlight.  I try to crawl my way through
the profanity of bombings, assassinations,

arrests and deportations, defunding
of everything that matters.  Absurdity
from our leader, incoherence mirrored

in my weekly visits to assisted living. 
How to write through this level of desolation?
Someone tug at me a little.  Just a little.