Watering the Lawn
I’ve pissed on lawns of rich men
I mean that earnestly
Literally
I landscaped three summers digging sod
Moving rocks and rarely was
A bathroom offered for our use
But being human pee one must
And so I’d take great pleasure
In dropping my pants and squatting over
Bob or Paul or David or Trevor’s
Rose bush festooned and perfectly pruned
Yard for a piss.
I’d do it with a gleeful giggle
And I felt I’d be remiss
At the end of each piss
If I didn’t give my little ass a wiggle
I mean, I’d silently beg their pardon
But I’d hate to have my knickers get messy
While attending to their yards and gardens
Or weeding among their delicious veggies.
The yard I took most delight in pissing on
Was owned by a man named Phil
I’d choose a spot just a little bit hidden
Behind the well-tended rhododendron
This man had years ago been an utter mean asshole
To my ex and so
Although some would say I was lacking in dignity
I’d pee in his yard with fucking remorseless glee
I never got to tell my ex about this act
If he found out I’m fairly sure he’d clap
I also took pleasure discovering that this anal prick
Had made a decision for some expensive stone
Instead of common brick
For the pavers around his wee fish pond
This stone flaked in the frost and cold
Chipped off in chunks and spread around
I imagine him a bit
Frustrated by the poor choice he’d made
I’m probably being kind
He may well have had a fit
When he thought how much money he’d paid
To have this expensive,
But badly suited stone be laid
And on some days when my co-worker and I
Were wet and cold and sitting outside
We’d look in at wives all warm
And sometimes we’d feel a bit forlorn
Then we would remember that however bad it got
Out here trying to stay warm in our unheated work truck
That at least we did not have to fuck
Nasty men like Phil
That thought could really give us the chills
And so we’d laugh and count our very good luck
As we finished our sandwiches and drained our thermos flasks
Wiped off our hands
And gladly got back to our
Menial and dirty tasks