It’s noon. Curtains drawn, dark. Monday. I think it’s “nice” outside, don’t want to look. Ketamine sings and bleeds through my brain. I cant really tell if my eyes are open or closed. I’m tired, but sleep isn’t what I need. Nothing hurts. The coffee is cold but it tastes good. I don;t know how they went to work this morning, but at the same time… I know exactly how.
There’s something about lawnmowers. The drone takes me back to a time when I had few cares. My older brother mowed the lawn, mostly. Maybe that was the last time I felt ok. I cant reconcile the comfort of the sound with what is actually causing it.
At some point, I began to see things as maybe, the sum of their parts? It’s hardly revolutionary thought, but I won’t be easily disabused of the notion that lawnmowers (not to be confused with lawn mowers), are dumb. It’s very much a matter of finding the solution to the problem you do not have.
We can make tiny machines that can spin implements very fastly! You build, they come. Now everyone can have a lawn! I remain unconvinced that the lawnmower was a necessary step towards some kind of collective self actualization.
Hey, yes, I’m some kind of petrolhead. I even had a punctuated tryst with the LawnBoy. Intoxicated by the smell of fresh cut green grass, the fumes of exhaust and fuel, the supersaturated greens and blues of summer, it’s easy to get a little wet, no? We’re only human, if not all aluminum/magnesium… stamped steel. Amirite?
How many lawnmowers? They are ubiquitous. But, so is grass, right? I’m not sure that last sentence would pass on an English test. Grass cutting machines are becoming nearly as prolific as grass itself. Never has so much been wreaked for so little. Well, that’s probably not at all accurate. I just can’t resist the drama.
The mowers went silent an hour or more ago, and my train of thought suffered for it. Why? Someone, please start mowing. As if by magic, as I typed it… not one mower, but two! I can think again. Why do I long for that annoying, destructive, drone?
Never mind, I’ll inject more ketamine into my… constitution, and sally forth. To the point. How much destruction has been wrought (I wanted to use wreaked and wrought today, challenge complete. First draft had them together, but they were thusly sawn asunder. It actually hurt me to write that.) o’er a blade of grass. I think that lawnmowers are a microcosm of us.
Thank you to the CERB for contributing to Canadian artists, allowing them to buy drugs and have the time to use them for the betterment of society.