Friday, July 29, 2011

Odes To a Dead Elm

There once was a tree in our garden
Whose trunk was not exactly hardened
To prevent destruction
We gave pros instructions
To cut down the fucker (with our pardons)

large rotted tree sways
a storm blows fiercely through town
flattened saturn vue

'Ere the dawn of Saturday morn,
Sir Ryan did ride forth from the quiet still of his garage.
Bearing his saw of chain, Remington, the morning sun glinting upon the links.
Gazing upon the Elmbeast,
And raising the visor of his cap,
Sir Ryan spake unto the tree of trees and declared,
"Elmbeast! Thou hast been as a plague
Upon this verdant land! I mean to end you."
Elmbeast rocked gently through the thick air,
And deigned not a reply.
Sir Ryan's fury was thereupon stoked fullest,
And he strode toward the electrical outlet
From whence Remington could pull that spark
That wouldst be the undoing of Elmbeast.
Unfurling his extension cord,
Sir Ryan made toward the Elmbeast.
And declaring himself at the undead tree,
He depressed the lever to give life to Remington.
Remington wailed unto the morning
The tale of his one-thousand watts of power
And did bite into the bark of the Elmbeast.
The Elmbeast was unmoved, 
And resisted not, was wounded not.
Remington's wail continued unabated
As it smote the Elmbeast again and again, fruitless.
And when the Elmbeast did succumb
With a crash to alarm the neighboring land's Yorkie and Wiener
Sir Rigo of Midstate did grin.
And from the air-conditioned luxury of his den,
Sir Ryan quaffed his ale,
And declaring his approval of the seasoned tree-feller's work,
Sir Ryan did offer forth his credit card.

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