The Nazi Lawn Guard

The Nazi Lawn Guard

I rarely leave

To venture wide-eyed

Into the white sun world

Full of angry people

Who don't know me

In my cell in my home

Surrounded by her prison yard

Upon my door a warning

From the commandant 

To reduce the length

Of grass to five inches

Six feet from my prison

Walls that keep them

From me and me from them

Two days is all I have

To cut my growing lawn

Or a fine a punishment

For the poor man in cell rags

Will be whipped from my bank

Stinging my backside

My wallet hole

She is the Lawn Nazi

Who will not call

With friendly voice and smile

No her guard like scream

Taped to my door

Through which I never leave

How was I to know

My confreres have seen

Her post her pistol blue tape

Sticky grease the glass9

On my door sensing punishment

Trim and slash my tiny yard

Freeing their prison mate

From the fine of penniless death

Barry G. Wick

Tides

Tides

My mother's comb

Sits on the side

Of her sink

Then gets moved

To my house

After she dies

I won that argument

I'd been arguing with her

Since my childhood

And just gave up 

Fighting her

The same with my father

These were long arguments

I gave and let them win

Now I'm her not arguing

With anybody

I just walk away

Everyone can win

Over me

I don't think I ever

Achieved what I wanted

Out of any relationship

Some will say this or that

But I'm convinced

I never landed where

I was supposed to land

Everywhere was low tide

Barry G. Wick