written by Joe Frank
 

When I was a child in school, there was a game we used to play...which involved how much dirt you could put in your ears, in your nose, and in your mouth.

I would always win...I could always take more dirt.  The other children would all get sick, throw up.  But I never did.

Then, I began to bury myself...because I'd come to love the odor of the earth, the taste, the gritty texture.

And soon, I had to have it cooked into all the meals I ate.  Small bits of earth in my steak, in my chicken, dirt gravy and dirt sprinkled onto everything...dirt casseroles and dirt desserts...  earth brouillé and earth au pouvre and earth with different sauces...

And eventually little tendrils began to grow out of my body...that would have to be trimmed constantly...grasses and flowers, soybeans, baby cucumbers, arugulla, okra, celery stalks, turnips and radishes...so that I became self-sustaining.  I could eat my own vegetables, and relied on no one for survival...but myself.

I was my own ecosystem...and this...this is what empowered me.