Does one keep the hoe tidy when it’s not in use
In the dark, deranged desert beneath the full moon?
Can the crust of dirt gathered that can’t be knocked off
Be at least submersed silly? What cure do I scoff
Since my own virgin land is a cluttered sand dune?
I will stick the damned hoe in a bottle of juice!
TidyHoes can be made so soon after they’re done
With the business of making their marks on the fields
Of our human potentials by soaking them clean
In a solvent solution to place in a scene
Near a tall standing genie whose providence yields
The insurance that’s needed to brighten the sun.
Where is TidyHoe found? Can I order online?
Or perhaps there’s a big supply kept underground?
It’s produced in abundance in places unknown
Then it’s beamed to this sense forsaken Twilight Zone.
Due respect for the tidy can always be found
And sometimes when it’s given, life seems to align.