'Fool for Love' by Heidi Hermanson

I love you like the lawnmower

loves the grass. The less

I see of you,

the better off I am.

You look beautiful but

I know about the dirt

you harbor. I loved

you like a singing bird,

happily perched. Your response

was…nothing. Can’t you

hear me? Please talk

to me, I begged

you. You move

silently, before you turn

away. So—I’m mowing

my lawn, sweating

a bit, and decide the shrubs

still need trimming too. I’ll need

my clippers, brand new,

hardware-store-approved

and shiny, probably in

anticipation of clipping

a few hearts.

I head to the shed.

When I open the door

I see pink ribbons

and a box of chocolate

where I usually lay the clips.

At this point I can

no longer stand it. I try

to slam the shed door shut

but apparently it’s on some

kind of pneumatic device

that will not let it shut.

From behind the shed

comes a line of male

dancers nattily attired,

1920s style. They’re singing

He loves you, he loves you

not as they pluck off

the respective petals

on the daisies! Once

again, I am caught

between a rock (the one

on my hand) and a hard

place (mostly in my mind). That’s

because when someone