Mama says, thresh the laundry on the line
It’s time to mulch the garden with bathrobes and slippers
Put on your shower cap and hoe with your sisters under the blue moonlight
Watch the men irrigate the accordion and weed the violin
Drink and clap and sing!
We slaughter the ironing board every spring
and sell bent nails each winter
We sow the curtain rod, harvest the lampshade, groom the fly
If only you could bundle and weigh our weary joy!
But when I go, because I will go-
I will plow under the marigolds in my heart
I will carry the big leaf maple- even through the gutters
of the fine city- I will carry its dirty roots and all its shade-
deep in my blue jean pockets
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