Mowing the Lawn

First you’ve got the prime
the en­gine, one, two,
three — and if you’ve got
the right idea,
and pull that cord
so hard your shoul­der
jolts, you’ll get its at­ten­tion.
That blade’ll turn and growl.
It is best to mow the lawn
in a rec­tan­gu­lar spi­ral,
four cor­ners shark­ing in
on that last king dan­de­lion.
Circumscribe trees twice;
let them know you know they’re wait­ing
for any ex­cuse
to drop sticks and leaves.
Become one with the lawn­mower,
take its chuff and cough
in­side of you.
If you run out
of gas, take a break, have
some lemon­ade, stomp on the
mole­hills. Begin again.
Mow your lawn un­til it
is a hockey puck
steak, un­til the trees are
limb­less chil­dren and king
dan­de­lion ab­di­cates the throne.
Stop. Put the mower away,
metal pant­ing like a weimaraner
gone hart-hunt­ing.
Wash the dust from your throat
with some sour lemon­ade
and en­joy your just de­sert.

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