Mowing

The rain had been thick and constant,
The world covered in grass,
It was growing absolutely everywhere,
I suspect even on my arse.
The mower had been standing idle,
Not needed in the drought,
But now it was expected to perform,
Beyond the shadow of a doubt.
I straddled the machine with deliberation,
Let off a nervous fart,
I prayed to God it would operate,
That this monstrosity would start.
It awakened with a reluctant roar,
Black bile belching out,
I punched the air with my delight,
And pealed off a mighty shout.
We thundered over hill and gully,
Leaving mulch behind,
We mowed everything in our path,
We mowed all that we could find.
A cane toad hopped away furiously,
For it's life it did beg,
We hit it at twenty miles and hour,
Its remnants showering my leg.
I zapped around fallen logs,
The speed set to high,
I slalomed through the native trees,
Until one poked me in the eye.
I mowed the back of the dam,
Letting forth thunderous peals,
Until for a moment I lost control,
And was up on two wheels.
Vertigo clammily clasped my spine,
I thought I was in a dream,
That I'd joined an evil circus,
And was in the Precision Driving Team.
Time slowed down, then slowed again,
Like it never had before,
I was able to gain control,
And continue on wheels numbering four.
I admit I had been scared,
My Chi had bullied my Zen,
But next time 'round I went faster,
So that I could do that stunt again.
I was levelling grass and branches,
From the tiny to the fat,
Until I stopped paying attention,
And mowed my sunglasses and my hat.
I stopped to refuel my maniacal machine,
It was surely running low,
I added some lubricant and some methanol,
To give it that extra go.
I continued to level all before us,
Over five acres did we roam,
Until I got off to get some plastic,
And the mower went on alone.
It bore a grudge for its rough treatment,
Retribution made it feel fine,
I'm not as fast as my blasphemous beast,
Now I have toes numbering nine.

Most of this is true – the need to mow after lots of rain, the going up on two wheels, the black smoke when it started, chasing toads, running over my hat, getting poked in the eye. I lead such an interesting life, sometimes …