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Death's Apology

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Death's Apology

A chapbook of poems from my younger years.

Death's Apology

I, Lord Death, mighty
astride my riding lawnmower,
am modern too.

As is fashion, I wear safety goggles,
earplugs, and gardening gloves.
(not that grass screams)

Their names, grown tall—
dandelion, buttercup,
goldenrod, thistle, daisy—
I know them all and mow them all
yet they always grow back.

I am neither monstrous nor random,
but I always need mulch.

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