Drive-bys

This is what I see while driving, out my window, on the lawns going by. I see a boy, arms upstretched for mowing with a machine he’s slightly too small for, pushing up on the bars of the mower, blades whirring, tipping the maching up and over the tall grass, then pulling down on these handlebars, scupping the blades on the sand and gravel grass, uneven again in his frustrated mowing. I do not see the father inside, sweating in the fetid air, fanning himself with his own fat fingers, clutching a greasy remote, content to have offspring enough who can be taught the virtue of true labor, and the reaping of the vineyard’s rewards. And if I could see, I do not think I’d look. The boy alone is fine for me and my story, and I keep driving.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s