I'd Let Somebody Dig
Rachel Carmody
I’d let somebody dig
if I but had the strength.
Though I’ve no spade on hand,
I’d stand aside the gate.
Crouching in the turf
the tip sinks low inside
tickles roots of dandil’ons
which feast upon the dead
It hammers the tomato patch
Tears out the potatoes
Casts aside the carrots, and I swear
Each yank grazes the lung
And every snap tapes down the tongue
What creature festers in her earthly womb
A clank in coffin sores my mind to see
And the corpse that sleeps within at any moment twitch
or bulging empty sockets turn to me and blink—
Yeah, if I had the strength
I’d let somebody dig.
But I’d rather fetch the hose on hand,
Feed my lovely garden.
if I but had the strength.
Though I’ve no spade on hand,
I’d stand aside the gate.
Crouching in the turf
the tip sinks low inside
tickles roots of dandil’ons
which feast upon the dead
It hammers the tomato patch
Tears out the potatoes
Casts aside the carrots, and I swear
Each yank grazes the lung
And every snap tapes down the tongue
What creature festers in her earthly womb
A clank in coffin sores my mind to see
And the corpse that sleeps within at any moment twitch
or bulging empty sockets turn to me and blink—
Yeah, if I had the strength
I’d let somebody dig.
But I’d rather fetch the hose on hand,
Feed my lovely garden.