Saturday, May 6, 2017

A Springtime Ode to Those Who Mow from Him Who Mows No Moe

The sudden heat this week reminds me of a time two years ago when I was mowing a huge lawn. I sometimes miss the lawn, but not the mowing.

Husqvarna’s Hymn to Hubris:
An Aging Real Man’s Ode
to His Own Indiscriminately Destructive
Saturday Chore-Accomplishing Self

With spinning scythe I sheared the blades today
And stung the eyes with clouds of greenery.
With Honda’s humming grace I plowed my way
And jimmied faltering machinery.
No technicalities could block my will;
I scattered threats across the natural world.
The earwigs who ignored me I did kill,
And clumps of dirt and rocks and sticks I hurled
With mighty force in all directions wide!
The neighbors almost dialed 9-1-1.
Triumphantly I scarred the earth with pride
And scorned the blazing full oppressive sun.
But wo is me!  I’m thirty-eight, you know.
And cruel heat stroke now has laid me low.

July 11, 2015 © Aaron Jordan

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