Mr. Chainsaw
May I cut your wood?
That’s all life seems to be
since the storm named after you
knocked down all my trees.
Once again my prides aloof
for as far as I can see
the yards are full of limbs and leafs.
I grab the oil for the chain
with which I saw.
Cleaning up messes
that I didn’t make at all.
I’ll spin this blade
until it’s black and raw
and there’s nothing left of me.
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“the chain with which I saw” I really like the way you put that. I also like the near rhyme of saw/all/raw and be/trees/leafs/me, though shouldn’t leafs be leaves? Just a thought. . I don’t know if the near rhymes were unconscious or on purpose, but they work well. They add musicality to this poem.
It sure looks like every word “earns its rent” in this poem. Nice kick with that last line. Thank you for sharing this!