by Martin Anton Smith martinantonsmith@gmail.com

My Gardener Read A Lot About Napoleon

When I asked Him To Pull Weeds He Refused

He Said He Hadn’t Yet Finalised Battleplans

For The Eastern Portion Of My Yard

I asked Him “But Are You Up For It?”

He Said “It May Be My Demise”

I Turned Around & Went Back To My Silly-Screen.

& Left Him To Turn the Pages Of His ‘Parallel Lives’

When I Returned An Hour Later

A Russian Gardener Had Usurped Him

I Was About To Celebrate My Weeds Death

When I Saw He Too Was Holding A Book

“The Brothers Karamazov”

Oh No I Thought As I Realised That

My New Gardener Was Reading Stalin’s Favourite Book

I Tested Him

“Would You Mind Pulling Those Weeds” I Asked

He Simply Pointed Over To the Garden

My Landlord Was Pulling the Weeds Out

But They Were Also Tied to a Stake

I Went Back Inside to My Silly-Screen With A Broad Smile

It Was Nice To See Societies Roles Reversed

And Soon the Garden Would Look Great!

For Garden Work Is Just Like the History of Tyranny

The Ends Justify the Means.