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Old Leaves

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They’re all over the lawn. I should put them in body bags by the curb but I hesitate. Not my neighbors, they hired a death squad to clean up. I would rather crush them up and spread them in a more attractive manner. I could use the push mower to tear them up, or the blender, if forced to. I’ll create some tiny crop circles, maybe the face of Jesus in the front yard.  The grass can grow up around it and there will be art!

Unfortunately, I don’t think my neighbors will even notice. They have one of those Soylent Green pods atop their car which hold  key tools to outdoorsmanship.  Someone else tends their lawn while they tend to the wilderness. If I am successful in my religious portraiture, I may post an ad on craigslist  noting it and see if I can get a crowd. That’s what I’m about I’m afraid. Being an old leaf myself, I want some attention and make artistic and garish attempts to get it. Like a New England fall, I’m too brightly colored at my age not to elicit a certain sadness.  Old leaves are not to be whisked away to the dump, but to be integrated into life in an intrinsically valuable way.  No better value than the priceless gift of religious superstition matched with artistic chicanery. Either that or I just write HELLO and see if anyone answers.

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About polarflares

My head is so big because it has so many holes and air gets in.

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