As I have mentioned previously, I own a piece of land with every possible invasive species in this area, most notably, kudzu, bamboo, poison ivy, and English ivy. Since I have moved to this part of the country, I have discovered two things about kudzu: 1. it is evil and 2. every single southern poet alive feels the need to include at least a mention of it in his or her poetry, usually as a metaphor. I am not really a poet, so frak the metaphors. Here's an angry rant. In verse (and with apologies to Elizabeth Barrett Browning):
Sonnet Against the Kudzu
How do I hate thee? Let me count the ways.
I hate thee to the depth and breadth and height
Your vines can reach, when growing overnight,
For the ends run twisting through every space.
I hate thee to the level of every day's
Relentless crawl up trees where thee I chase.
I hate thee loudly, as I shout and fight.
I hate thee purely, with a poisoned haze.
I hate thee with the shovel put to use
On your old roots, a sharp-edged dance of death.
I hate thee with a hate I’ll never use
On mere ivy. I hate thee with the breath,
Scowls, tears, of this long war; and, if God choose,
I shall but hate thee better after death.