i look out at our broken front lawn
and i want it fixed —
i want it fixed right now.
the bushes and the plants and the trees
that once framed the house are gone,
ripped from their roots
by my furious hands last spring,
after my own insides had been ripped out.
as i kneel on the dirt
and start the slow process of rebuilding,
the barren muddy ground
eyeballs me with sadness,
and the seeds seem to fall more reluctantly
than they should.
i have no patience for time.
i want it fixed —
i want it fixed right now
i just want it all back
to the way it used to be.