The earth is rocky and full of roots it's clay and it seems doomed and polluted but you dig little holes for the ugly shriveled bulbs throw in a handful of poppy seeds and cover it all over and you know you'll never see it again - it's death and clay and shrivel and your hands are nicked from the rocks your nails black with soil.

When the shriveled skin of the ordinary is stuffed out with meaning it satisfies the senses amazingly.