Zulu Z. Zulu,
Times Staff

GREENLAWN, New York - Moss covered leprechauns dance while their fallen brothers,

the innocent and petite gnomes

and elves, suffocate on filthy

and encroaching all natural lichen.

No one bats an eye as the

engine-less lawn mower is pushed

silently across the lush fertilized

pasture where green is in, and

carcinogens are on the up, and

death and decay are the lowest

kind of status symbol. A beige

spot on a suburban lawn attracts the

glowering furrowed brow scorn of

uppity passer-bys. Fuck ‘em.