by Betsy Johnson-Miller

the lawn mower is a strange place to have an argument
with my father     it’s loud       he’s deaf                  and
dead      my father the coroner loved to mow

like he was performing an autopsy    lines      straight
as the number 4      pencils he used extra hard always
sharp

every time I mow        I Van Gogh      green curlicues
let’s call this what it is      moody work