The Suburbanite Gets Ready To Mow The Lawn

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the lawnmower wouldn’t start
so we pushed its prime and
pressed its choke with every
hope and pulled the cord
again and again and again

and again until it sputtered
but was too weak to go
on so we checked the manual
and pulled the cord and yelled
wiggled some wires and worried

then took off the gas cap to peer
inside and pulled the cord but got
nothing so we tipped it around like
a carnival ride and kicked it and
cursed the grass and the rain and

spring and warm weather and that
fertilizer we foolishly applied and all
yards in suburbia and beyond but still
not a single spark of promise so we
shoved it and walked away to stomp

down a lot of mole hills as we lifted our
fists heavenward to rail against Demeter
and her daughter and all homeowner’s ordinances
and mankind’s conformity and rules in general
but then we came back and pulled the cord

and it roared to life

NaPoWriMo #24

I’m writing a poem every day in April as part of NaPoWriMo’s celebration of National Poetry Month. We may be able to live without poetry, but who would want to?

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