Grass: First Take

and that, father, is why I take tea:
to set the grasses sweetly a-rustle
in my balm-shop mind; home of
hopeless impediments and even more
struggles that aren’t struggles, but diversions
and there’s a reason I won awards for hustle

I am a gambit; a maven; a practicing
witch-doctor; my friends and I build
mazes for hire and stun doctors with
flavored oils: here, smell my cinnamon, dads,
become an ocean again, from here to Sandusky.