BRING ORDER TO NATURE

I'm not sure about this poem. It is based on something I saw recently, a woman digging out blades of grass that grew between the paving slabs outside her house. Her lawn was composed of plastic grass and the exacting precision with which it had been laid reminded me of a model train exhibition I had seen in the early summer. 

The grass on her lawn could have been laid

by a carpet fitter and probably was

it’s plastic and could outlast The Bomb

It looks like a scene in a toy train diorama

the well kept garden of some dream house

that faces the train line with a waving figure in the doorway

Meanwhile she’s on her knees

hoicking up rebellious sods of grass

that have the temerity to poke up between the paving stones

And I wonder if the model shop sells plastic figures

that enable such order to be brought to nature

I am not sure about the end, whether it needs to be less critical, I suspect it does. I was struck by the artificial neatness of the lawn and how she was endeavouring to remake the street in its image. Perhaps this is what humans have been doing from the get go attempting to remake the world to suit the image in their heads.

Coincidently two different albums have just been released about Amelia Earhart and both are worth a listen. This is Public Services Broadcasting.

And this is Laurie Anderson.

Until next time.