The Yard

          I see piles of leaves
          waiting around in the backyard 
          and I don't like being stared at
          by slackers.

Was it not just this summer
that I commented on how I thought
they were doing so fine out there
converting sunlight
into whatever it is they make?

Nevertheless, I am now witness
to their languished work ethic;
it worsens and worsens and worsens
until this.
Now look at them.

So, I guess I'm supposed to get
myself up from my easy chair,
toss on a jacket,
not forget to put on some britches,
grab a couple of plastic bags,
spank a smile onto my face,
and hustle out there
to pick those lazy b******s up.

 

Reviews

[Emily B]

but they look so pretty in piles . . . food for grass

I abstain from raking for purely religious reasons. God put them there. Who am I to move them around?