a cackling cough and a cloud of smoke
exhaust poofs and plumes into the air
trapped in the heat, the starter broke
from lack of fuel or lack of care

the lawn keeps growing, sprouting up and up
slowly creeping, covering the concrete
from east to west, the blades push up and up
surely expanding, like the summer’s heat

now growling again the motor sickly kicks
huffing and wheezing with all its strength
this lawnmower is in need of a fix
or maybe retirement, it’s served its length

but the neighbors insist the green must be groomed
and a well-kept yard says something about you
so for the time being, it’s his job to be assumed
to make the trim, to cut the crew

yet through the hissing, struggling rumble
the cutter moves on, thinning the grass
travels from north to south without stumble
and collects in its stomach the warm fresh mass

and so in all our days we cut on and on
to the places where our bodies rest
across the green, across the lawn
with no where to go but looking our best

-j.a.kays