Leafblowermen

I try not to envy them too much,
their saffron and rust cascades,
their satisfying buzz-growl,
their meaningful vibration.

They’re permitted to carry a cannon
and a backpack, and see immediate
return on labor spent. They groom
the hair of the grass.

I imagine them rising from the earth
to meet leaves coming down, nature
clasping hands with itself, and then
blowing its fingers away.

You Know It’s Pretty Bad

When you listen to Leonard Cohen to cheer up,
you know it’s pretty bad.

When your blues is depressed and your depression
has melancholia, you know it’s pretty bad.

When your woman leaves you for no one at all
and the dog goes with her, you know it’s pretty bad.

When the credit card company takes pity on you,
you know it’s pretty bad.

When the economy crumbles and nobody bothers
to lay you off, you know it’s pretty bad.

When the clean-cut young men in the white shirts
and black ties pass your house by, you know
it’s pretty bad.

When you read this poem and think it’s about you,
you know it’s pretty bad.

Gary Charles Wilkens earned his Ph.D. in Literature and Creative Writing from The University of Southern Mississippi in 2010. He is currently Assistant Professor of English at Norfolk State University. His first book, The Red Light Was My Mind (2007), won the Texas Review Press Poetry Breakthrough Series Prize in 2006. His poems have also appeared in over 40 journals and anthologies, both in print and online.