an ode, for what was done well, but could have been (in retrospect) done better. after all, a whole lawn of grey is eclipsed by the lawn with my ROGER spelled across it in all grey-dead caps. but that’s why there is always tomorrow.

for tomorrow’s grass is greener
in my own yard than in my neighbor’s.
not for reasons philosophical, but rather,
i, unwilling to stand and watch this
‘scotts lawn’ continue, took matters into my
own hands in scoop after scoop of
industrial salt.

(something much too cheap for the world
out there like me, of evil scientists, who are
unwilling to let jobs that need to be done
right be done by someone else).


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