.

Note to a Sloppy Homeowner

in response to C.B. Anderson’s “Know How to Mow”

Increasing rates are musts for folks like you.
“Annoyance tax.” I mowed your lawn last time.
I chose the route and sent away the crew—
(They’re Mexican). The scheme was by design.
As we all know your gardens are refined:
manicured and mulched and finely edged;
but also that you have an artist’s mind—
devoid of common sense and so I’ve pledged
to send you this. We’re paid to cut the lawn,
not to pick up toys and tools and crap.
For when you sloppy weekenders are gone
we’re left the mess. So I guess that’s a wrap.
Do yourself a favor with the hoses—
roll them up. And you’d be spared the roses.

.

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Email to Evan and the Society
of Classical Poets

Hello old confidantes. How have you been?
Exposing evil on this crazy earth.
Extolling truth and beauty. Calling sin
what it is and doing so with mirth.
Sometimes when I am fighting in my trench
I catch a break and scroll through what you’ve wrote.
Domestication is a hectic wench,
and long-ago I lost my poet’s coat.
The dark night of my soul is rarely dark;
it’s rather light and airy. Kind of safe.
I’m healthy as a horse. I run the park.
Don’t drink or smoke. An adult from a waif.
Keep pressing on. You’re lights upon a hill.
One day I will be back. I hope I will.

.

.

Reid McGrath lives and writes in the Hudson Valley Region of New York.

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The Society of Classical Poets does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or commentary.


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17 Responses

  1. James Sale

    Great to hear from the Great Reid McGrath, particularly love the poignant Email to Evan – really touching, thoughtful and expressive. If I remember correctly, Reid won the first ever SCP competition, and he’s so young too! So, I look forward to reading more of his excellent work over the coming years!

    Reply
  2. Amy Foreman

    Thank you, Reid. I second that poetic email to Evan and all friends here at the SCP. The Foreman’s 2020 move and subsequent off-grid life have kept me beyond busy, but “rarely dark” and “healthy as a horse.” But also like you, I look forward to the day I come back . . . “I hope I will.” Blessings to you and your family, and to all the truth and beauty extollers here!

    Reply
    • James Sale

      Now that’s exciting too: love Amy Foreman’s poetry and really want to see her here publishing great stuff!!! Truth and beauty, certainly!

      Reply
      • Amy Foreman

        Thanks ever so much James! Hoping to take poetic pen in hand soon . . . ’til then, so inspiring to read stuff written by you and other great poets at the SCP!

    • Reid McGrath

      You’ll be back, Amy. I can’t wait for what you have in store. Hope you and the fam are well. Glad to hear you are still off the grid. That’s the best place to be these days.

      Reply
      • Amy Foreman

        Thank you, Reid. The fam and the farm have both been growing by leaps and bounds–and we have been very grateful to be off-grid and disconnected during the past three years of insanity . . . Hopefully, this winter, I’ll have enough ducks in a row to return to some writing, . . . and I hope to see more of your stuff soon, too!

      • Joshua C. Frank

        Wow, Amy, good for you. I’d love to live the off-grid life myself someday… how did you manage to go from the city to that?

      • Amy Foreman

        Well, it’s certainly been an adventure, Joshua. In 2019, after years of concern regarding the disturbing nature of world events and decisions, we took the plunge and sold our “on-grid” home and bought empty acreage in the middle of nowhere, where we have spent the last 3+ years establishing as self-reliant a homestead as possible, from drilling a deep well and planting orchard, vineyard, and garden, to digging a root cellar for produce, wine, cheese, and other basic refrigeration needs, and so on. The first 18 months without any sort of plumbing (heaven help us!) were the hardest–but even with such inconveniences, it’s been worth it. If you get the opportunity to go off-grid, I highly recommend it. especially in these times. 🙂

  3. Roy Eugene Peterson

    I am still laughing at the poem about mowing and look forward to the responses. My mower man leaves the back gate open when done (most of the time). Rolling up the hoses to save the rose was a great two lines. I remember sending a thank you poem to Evan (at least I think I sent it.) Evan deserves our accolades for his constant work on our behalf and creative suggestions to improve our work and refine our verbiage.

    Reply
  4. C.B. Anderson

    Well yeah, Reid, know how to mow, or hire someone who does know how. Some workers are better than others at dealing with casual impediments, and in my neighborhood they are mostly Brazilians. But when it comes to the roses, no excuses are acceptable, and this is one of the reasons why I do my own yardwork. I happen to drink and smoke (various botanic substances), but really, Reid, you are back.

    Reply
    • Reid McGrath

      Haha, C.B., I figured they were probably Brazilians, and I enjoyed your poem, as I do mostly all of your witty poetry, it just roused something in me from having to pick up after so many people over the years. I take great pride in proper property maintenance as well.

      Reply
      • C.B. Anderson

        Picking up after others, Reid, is rarely, if ever, a pick-me-up.

  5. James A. Tweedie

    Wow! a veritable feast of future poems to look forward to! Reid and Amy, I’m tickled to see you gearing up for your respective all-too-long-deferred returns to the SCP menagerie. Good times-a-comin’ fer sure! I can’t wait!

    Until then, all the best!

    Reply
  6. BDW

    Off the Grid
    by Caleb Wuri Seed
    for Reid McGrath and Amy Foreman

    I had not heard a single word. You live a life forbid.
    Amidst the skid into this ditch, you went off-grid—you did.
    Away from the insanity, this crazy whirled faze;
    you think it is the best place to be in these wretched days.

    Ah, disconnected to this hectic wrenching, you are free
    to keep clear…of the madding crowd’s irrationality.
    O, if such were a possibility, I’d be so glad
    I can not even dream of such a heaven to be had.

    Instead I am here in this horrid, boiling, roiling spot,
    continuing to fight this plight of blight, and rued root rot,
    unfortunately like a Don Quixote on his quest—
    of neverending battles and unsettling, restless stress.

    Reply
    • Amy Foreman

      Thank you, Bruce, for including me in this clever (though slightly depressing) poem . . . and here’s hoping that you find the occasional breather even in your “boiling, roiling spot!” Blessings–

      Reply

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