I’ll never own a leaf blower,
I’ll never rake with noise,
Or drive away God’s tiny mole
By blasting at his tunnel hole.

I’ll never own a leaf blower,
I’ll never scream my task,
Or trample over village green,
With monster-wicked shit machine.

I’ll never own a leaf blower,
I’ll never ramble like a jackass,
Or toss around some screeking wand
With “hi-tech” sneer o’er walk and lawn.

I’ll never own a leaf blower,
I’ll never drown out little birds,
Or shirk a weary autumn ritual
By flaunting such an obscene tool.

I’ll never own a leaf blower,
I’ll never roar at leaves,
But I’ll admit I own a loud lawn mower
That I keep beside my big snow blower.



Jack Suss (aka Wyman Wicket) is a cultural mutant multi-career virtuoso—blues piano player and singer, writer/poet, one-time military officer, lawyer, English professor, and Ph.D. in Humanities. Read more of his poetry here

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One Response

  1. C.B. Anderson

    Heh-heh. Now, if we can just do something about those giant leaf blowers that landscrapers use, then we’ll have accomplished something.


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