My neighbor’s lawn is impressive.
uniform height
ninety degree edges.
Perfect green
without variance
in hue
once a week
the leaf blower stalks the land
removing non-acceptable
organic matter
an obvious cartel exists
neighbors on each side
submitting to this dark vision
of environmental order.
Stone lions border the driveway
a clear designation as leader
of the green cabal.
My own lawn cut once a week.
The mower traversing every
dip,
curve,
& bare spot
undulating lines
edges varying from
forty five to
one hundred ten degrees
a broad palette of shades
dark hunter green
to accents of speckled wheat
thanks to the remnants of buffalo grass.
Celebrating the imperfect
displaying beautiful variance
a world left to its natural devices
rolling softly
curving sensually
the sort of beauty
that laughs at the idea of
an acceptable thigh gap.
Defying the single stroke hegemony
of these over-fertilized stormtroopers
& their stone lions.
© John Homan
John Homan is a poet and percussionist from Bend, Oregon. He is a graduate of
Indiana University. His work has appeared in Chiron Review, Mojave Heart Review,
Pulp Poetry Press and Quatrain.fish among others. He is the founder and coordinator
of WordPlay Open Mic Night in Elkhart, he resides in Indiana where he lives with his wife and two cats.
