No Unnecessary Harm

Rain cold oh this spring ticks galore perched ready to pounce from where they sit like buddhas on the tip of every blade of lush grass bloody blood meal that’s all we are to them yeah that’s why I miss the weedwhacker it’s been in Jere’s shop for a week yay today he calls says ‘you can pick it up’ what says I was wrong with it ‘something I’ve never seen before starter cord tied itself up in a knot I untied’ I hitch a ride down to Jere’s with neighbor George to pick it up ten bucks cheap but will cost those ticks deerly I’m the buddha who slays them the little buggers die! die! I avow these small uneven intimacies.