He says, this is easy.
Child’s play.
I could do this work
with my pinky finger,
blindfolded,
and I would be
happy to do it:
forever and ever.
He thinks about
the poor schmuck
he got “to spell
him a bit” with
that fucking boulder.
He thinks he just
might keep mowing
the grass until
there’s no more grass
on the planet.
Grass is stupid,
he says,
boulders are heavy,
and I am no glutton
for punishment.
michael jarmer 