accelerated lawn

i wanted a rapid nuclear melody.
took handfuls of fertilizer out 
to the green. under the dirt 
worms were knitting themselves 
into a great war blanket. 
the grass's teeth shown shiny 
& white. i compost another dream.
watch mushrooms grow in frills.
a pod of dophins leave the ocean 
with freshly evolutioned legs
& i wonder what i'd have to do
to go in the other direction.
take paring knife to make gills.
mutilation is a process of becoming
closer to the self. or unless 
i am not someone you should ask about
a "self." once i saw my heart 
on a towel at a yard sale.
a yellow sticker read "25 cents."
i did not buy it. now it belongs
to an old man who pushes a shopping cart
of trinkets in & out of his mouth.
we buy a sprinkler & can't work up the courage
to dance in its fire. seams of 
water landing all across the lawn.
there is no mower. there has never been
a mower. a blade exists beneath me 
always whirling. i live a wrong-step
kind of life. i spend all day counting
the blades. these are each mine. 
i imagine a lover counting the hair
on my head. i often mistake 
attention to detail 
for love. or maybe it really is
what it means to care for someone. 
to memorize them to the point at which
you could make a replica if need be.
i lay down in the grass & it swells
taller & taller around me until
the sun is hairy & feminine. 
enveloped, i dream 
of leap-frogging binaries. hands 
on the shoulders of a lawn
as it becomes drift-worthy cosmos. 

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