Himalayan Blackberry

Considered a berry,

but really an aggregate fruit,

in short—good to eat,

but hard to treat.

Once cultivated, but now on the run,

a challenge to have a go,

only thorn-slowed by a mow,

so most decide to use

herbicide with a good sticker,

but digging up will also suffice.

Born in the cradle,

with the mind of a ladle,

it made its way

to live free as a wild crop.

Many people value the taste,

but I suspect those who own land,

which Himalayan blackberries embrace,

deep in their soul, feel a bit more chaste—

for this damn fruit has no limit to growth.

How much over the years has been spent,

on poison poured with no sustained dent?

If more effective options were found,

I could invest the money locally,

in better helping my family and friends,

instead of spraying questionable chemicals

as my maintenance account money goes down

and some corporation’s dividend payments go up.

So, what can I do to save the fields?

I hope the answer is not to give up and

buy and hold chemical company mutual funds.

(I am too stubborn and affected, I guess).

I hear Tansy Ragwort is now under control;

can we retrain the underemployed

cinnabar moth, flea beetle, and seed head fly?

The Himalayan blackberry is out of hand—

I will give almost anything new a try to free the land.