by October 20, 2013 0 comments

I have laid siege to this lot, seems like my whole life,
perhaps longer; in this forever war, forever have I waged
the good fight against nature, against the inevitable,
Sisyphus pushing a Toro, mowing the green down as it
grows up behind me, its counter attack, its ironic violence
against this aggressor. I feel it in my back, in my right knee
I hear it stretch and grow bolder. I hear it these nights
Plotting, planning its recovery, certain of its final victory.
But, I arm myself, buy fuel, sharpen my blade, check the oil,
work out designs, choreograph the battle, line on line,
precisely measure pace and timing, step boldly out, again.

editors note:

For the scions of suburban mythology, this side o’ the fence should be shortly shorn, shiny and green, green, green. – mh

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