Excuses Poem by cathy clough

here in my garden
of so called eden
are roots and seeds
planted by uncertainty
for surely here
there could be no weeds
to tangle any gender
to trip any lame
in this garden grows
images of mirrors
reflected onto images
of other mirrors
meant to distort the truth
as the snake did
in the original garden
so, what do i accept
as the real, the truth
the words you're saying
are they really true
or just some excuse
just some other excuse
to get out of another task
enough, i say, enough
no more excuses
just please go mow
the friggin' lawn.

cat

cat