Fake Plastic Grass

The grass we lay down upon

is artificial

One day, you say it will blanket the whole world

The moon becomes stuck

in its waning

as if someone had tried to shoot it down

The TV blames it on the cosmonaut

which probably means it wasn’t him

Sometimes, there is no rebirth from death

Sometimes it is just rot & ruin

The fake plastic grass

will never understand

& I will never be who they want me to be

and it wears me out, it wears me out….