FRANCESCA LEADER

Hellstrip

Mower blades
Slash loose
A sharp scent
Of rogue mint
In the grass,
Reminding me
That I exist
To sense things.

I cut the engine,
Drop to my knees
In greasy-wet verdure,
Mouth with ardor
Into that biting
Green sweetness.

I am not
On this earth
To keep up appearances.