alternatives to lawns

we could pile eyelashes. 
rake the fallen birds & wait for their bones.
we live in a world of false greens.
here is where we told the earth
"grow for me" as if the ghosts could
just shed their hunger. we could 
fill the lawn with derelict cars
or broken glass. wear shoes when you
try to cross the threshold
or else your feet might become
lawns too. i remember when 
my parents planted theirs. our yard 
used to be fresh earth. a mud worship.
instead, we laid freckled seed. 
took out sprinklers & fed the lawn.
then we sacrificed a chicken 
on the cement slab of the porch.
let the blood turn to rain above.
hail. hawk storm. nothing comes easy
in a world of rung out sleep.
a field of eyes. a field of teeth.
there is so much we could be gathering.
i tried my best. i tell my brother,
"why didn't we pour feathers?"
there were always so many in the attic
from the visitations of ravenous angels.
i fed them angel food cake. 
sharp fangs grazing my palms.
in the end it will require getting 
on our knees. the roots of grass
drill down & hug the earth's
molten stomach. one by one though.
the lawn could become a plain 
of bottles & weeds. give me a clover
wide enough to land a plane on.
i am traveling from one gender's
little private screaming to another. 
tomorrow, the lawn will be swallowed.
so, for tonight, let's lay here
in the cool green. i will tell you
a secret. i do not know if i care
what is really green or not.