THE LAWN
Hands clasped,
As we wait in line
We wait in line
We scan
The bank for some final sign
One final time
I write my signature
So hesitant
With a shaking pen
I cosigned
On the mortgage
You floated me the loan
I should have planted flowers
You never mowed the lawn
Close blinds
A final time
Make sure
The gas is on
Dim lights
Lock tight
The windows
And the door
Foreclose our dreams
Slip into
Something comfortable
Modest
Affordable
Let's torch it for insurance
Burn good things until they're gone
Let's call and wait
For sirens
And fret about the lawn