Death of a Lawn Mower by David Ignatow
It died in its sleep,
dreaming of grass, its knives silent and still, dreaming too, its handlebars a stern, abbreviated cross in tall weeds. Where is he whom it served so well? Its work has come to nothing, the dead keep to themselves.
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June 19, 2010 by Jay Babcock
POETRY | Tags:
David Ignatow, POETRY |
About Jay Babcock
I am an independent writer and editor based in Tucson, Arizona.
In 2023: I publish an email newsletter called LANDLINE = https://jaybabcock.substack.com
Previously: I co-founded and edited Arthur Magazine (2002-2008, 2012-13) and curated the three Arthur music festival events (Arthurfest, ArthurBall, and Arthur Nights) (2005-6). Prior to that I was a district office staffer for Congressman Henry A. Waxman, a DJ at Silver Lake pirate radio station KBLT, a copy editor at Larry Flynt Publications, an editor at Mean magazine, and a freelance journalist contributing work to LAWeekly, Mojo, Los Angeles Times, Washington Post, Vibe, Rap Pages, Grand Royal and many other print and online outlets. An extended piece I wrote on Fela Kuti was selected for the Da Capo Best Music Writing 2000 anthology. In 2006, I was somehow listed in the Music section of Los Angeles Magazine's annual "Power" issue. In 2007-8, I produced a blog called "Nature Trumps," about the L.A. River. From 2010 to 2021, I lived in rural wilderness in Joshua Tree, Ca.
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