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.
Anton Martin Smith Writer 