Dried and crispy coats the lawn
Bright or dull it matters none.
Crying out their silent protest
Against this quick and second death.

And yet their friends keep coming
Dropping in, joining the parade,
“Wait don’t start without us”
Not knowing they’ve been betrayed.

Hiding in weeds or fleeing with the wind
They resist their fate in quiet desperation,
But the mower knows no empathy.
Inevitably they face their final destiny.

They say mow the lawn…
Sever the sick…
They are the poor…
We are the rich…

They say **** us dandelions…
Live within their lines…
We say they’re out of time…
They say watch it tick…

They say tame that topiary…
of children’s dismembered dreams
We say you’re not meant to be here like this…
They don’t like the smell of cut grass biting back -
Like they don’t like the smell of blood in the streets - so they say keep it strict -
Make sure you’ve choked the weeds
with rotten fish, and poisoned seed…
They never hold a tight fist, but point a finger,
regal, stiff…

Our thick fragrant odour, frightens them much deeper…
And places a hand where the heart cannot beat…
This is why they don’t want us growing in peace, why they don’t want branches climbing their tall seats…

Because the alter they tokened is faltering cheaply, so they’re panicking and grabbing at every last leaf, in the strive to not be swallowed by the swamp of their own iniquity…

the pink clouds move slow
slow like i was tricked by the years

gleaming over grass i walked
by feet
small in saturday's shoes

sharp patch grass and dirt that stuck to my back
replaced by the warmth of wood chips
familial love reflects off the set up sign
  swaying on the lawn

i feel its burn in my eyes

the ice cream man drives by
i guess the best flavor isn't in stock anymore

the sun keeps setting on my dreams to escape  
i already woke up from it all

A Poem for Grammy's Lawn

I like to run my lawnmower
I like to mow my lawn
I want to mow it every day
But now the grass is gone

So now all I can mow is dirt
Which raises clouds of dust
You may think I mow too much
But I don't mow enough

Now that all my grass is gone
Some moss grows on the side
I'd mow that too, but it's too low
So I just let it lie

One day I fell and lost my wig
And Rickey picked it up
He said "Hey, Grammy, Here's your Hair."
I though I'd bust a gut

Now here's the reason that I mow
You'll say "For goodness sake!"
With grass so short you see the dirt
It can't hide any snakes!

Richard Thietje 2010

I’ll enjoy the sunset while you’re gone
I’ll enjoy my evenings humming alone
I’ll cherish the buzzing bees and the butterflies in my lawn
I don’t need to yearn
I don’t need to worry
I am in stasis not determined
I am freedom not burden
so I write the song that we sing along
I’ll enjoy your company when you come
I’ll cherish every fingerprint that you left on my heart
I don’t need to strive
I don’t need to worry
I am in stasis not determined

Love blooms from fertile fields like springtime sprawlers
but the regimental maintenance of one’s lawn
halts the grass at a certain height

lessening mushrooms and mosquitoes
lessening honeysuckle and dandelions

the aroma of lavender and roses
faintly cries from beneath grass clippings.

Dug up an earthworm
the longest I've ever seen
while paving a garden path
to make my home look clean.

Thought it wouldn't suit the worm
to be trapped under so much rock,
so I tossed him over to my neighbour
who has lots of lawn around his block.

Hoped the worm would appreciate
that my strategy has saved his day,
when a crow came swooping down,
picked him up and flew away.