SPRING NOISE

well those lawn mowers
can only whine or be silent
and when those lawn mowers are silent
they lay like fed alligators
or like unwound clockwork
waiting to whine again

waiting to chop turf into paste again
into school sportsday smells again

( memories of melting macadam
  steel chair legs sinking
  into the black crust
  while the country dancing is on  
  and at the end of our street
  a cloud of ladybirds
  blocks out the thunderstorm sun )

or they tick and tick dont they
when theyre finished
and theyre left in the shade
when theyre finished
going tick and tick arent they
metal cooling off exertion
away from the sun

i like them best like this i think
its like behind the intermission curtain
of a poundshop steampunk puppetshow

or it could be morse code couldnt it
the tick ticking could be morse code
and they could be saying
finished now back in the shed please

~

birds automatically broadcast
incredibly full of themselves
voluntarily in a cage
built of immediate chatter

like kids in a schoolyard
suddenly here
filling the air
an unfiltered yelling machine
with 100 moving legs

then theyre gone
theyre gone again
theyre herded off in a blink
gone again in the time 
it takes me
to take a piss

~

i breath deep
i stretch out on the bed
i attempt to ground myself
like the sheets are earth
in a west country meadow

i am a witness on a budget
quiet in the face 
of a quadraphonic world

the curtains are cracked
for a slice 
of white sun
for a glimpse 
of green 
turned silver

but is too bright now
but i know too
that it will also 
be gone 
too soon

godiva mower 1920s / from oldlawnmowerclub.co.uk