twisted roots
first there was foliage
in the form of weeds and the offshoots of insufficiently-pruned trees
pull
clip
lop
snip
hoe
rake
cram
tote
the ladder is old aluminum flimsy-bound
the muscles have to be told to strike like a snake but stronger
the dumpster fills quickly
and the work is done just as it’s getting too hot to continue
this old guy
he said done
he changed shirts and off he run
with a walk far hit a bar give the man a beer
this old guy’s unwinding here
just like he did in days of yore
only scaled down for sixty
no more for him the allnight casino grind
nor the strip joint lustrush
nor the blindinglight headspike of a payback hangover
no
but
three bottles of bud and a shot of jack over two hours and a looseness occurs
and the twisted roots are recalled and toasted to
and there was a nonslot machine with puzzles & games
and the yore-beloved “WORD DOJO” was on the menu
and the old guy scored places one through seven in seven tries winning five replays
and marked his scores with the days-of-yore nom de guerre “RUSTY”
and soaked up the libations with a forbidden cheeseburger (provolone) and onion rings
and with a rueful yet game grin
this old guy came rolling “home”
