Blue is the Color of Fallen Grass (The Mood of Us as We Crash)

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Lawnmower man

,
blue t-shirt rivaling bare sky,
push your rumbling grass monster,
let the blades of tiny photosynthesized rebels
fall dismembered on the battlefield,
you’ll never see them cry.

For your sun-smacked yellow clippings collector
collating downed timbers of turf
the way panicky number crunchers,
captured by data’s seductive call to arms,
caused the financial Flash Crash
of 2008 in a rush of picoseconds
will suck those beheaded blades
out of your path with mindless ease.

Per-hour wage, pushing through the green,
sun above and earth below,
mow mow
down with the revolting blades;
your cause is secure, for as one falls
another will grow.

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16 thoughts on “Blue is the Color of Fallen Grass (The Mood of Us as We Crash)

    1. I think feelings should be mixed about lawnmower man: a bit sorry, a bit inspired, a bit indifferent. It’s the contrast between him and the speculators mentioned that’s most important.

    1. Yes, thank you. Those were the ideas and comparisons I was hoping to convey, while showing what most people might see as a mundane scene. This was the third lawn mowing related poem I’ve posted to Carbon Noise.

  1. In general, we write a poem, find an image to illustrate or reflect our work, Now, let’s go reverse, we provide you an image! Super!

    Invite you to contribute a poem or a short story based on the image you see! See?!

    Be creative, and have fun!

    Hope to see you in…

    Bluebell Books!
    Xoxox

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