CounterPunch Exclusives

CounterPunch Exclusives

Reclaiming a Disposable Planet

Image by Elena Mozhvil.

Hey, want to read a poem with me? Warning: It opens several disturbing doors, the least disturbing of which is the “crazy old coot” part, i.e., me. Once you start getting lost in the paradoxes of life, you need to watch out. They could start coming after you.

But more disturbing is the paradox itself, which is both environmental and spiritual. And it’s right there on my front lawn. The life I’ve been given — the lives we’ve been given — are partially disposable, apparently. Mostly I took this for granted, but suddenly one summer afternoon, as I was pushing my hand mower up and down the lawn, something shifted in me. I started feeling. . . reverence for garbage? Tossing out the trash is something you’re just supposed to do, no questions asked, at least if you want to live a normal, respected life. Doubting this could be a tad problematic.

The poem is called “Buddha’s Lawn.” I wrote it a decade ago. Back when I still had a lawn to mow.

I mow the lawn and feel gratitude

haven’t pigeonholed me as a crazy old coot.

I’m stalled in my transition

from a lifestyle and sense of order based on

like weeds, mice, whatever,

to one based on........

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