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.