Megan Baldrige
Last year
flowing
with water,
a humble hose
saved me,
the gaillardias and hollyhocks
from death
by sunstroke.
This helpful hose
tripped me
when I forgot to
water thirsty tomatoes,
whispered to me
at night
mid-garden
up to my bedroom.
“Turn on the faucet”
I heard blowing
in the wind
when I awoke
at night,
so hot I dreamt
I was chased by
fireworks.
Last July
my supple assistant
worked overtime,
uncomplaining of heat prostration,
being run over by cars,
trapped under rocks.,
sequestered during the rains.
This hose coupled well with its faucet,
hooked up
with a diva
nozzle,
never minding
when the trigger
stuck on flood.
Underappreciated,
overextended,
pulled
and pushed around,
stretched,
but never laid
low
by being underfoot.
Later last fall
this tired hero
napped in the corner
in the lambs’ ears bed. in a relaxed sprawl.
Last year’s hose
deserved a retirement on a pedestal in the garage.
But, unfaithfully,
I uncoupled
our partnership,
when I unscrewed
last year’s hose
from the wall
and replaced
it with this year’s hose.
I laid last years hose
amidst glass shards
at the recycling bin on Edith; in a half hour
my betrayed friend
disappeared,
never again to be fondled by me, Judas.
Later that day I met
this year’s hose.
who insisted I buy its one-year
warrantee
before it agreed
to leave the
Lowes’ nursery shelf
It refused
to be haled
as hose,
wanted to be known
as “neverkinkmax”,
but sprawled
kinkily,
nonetheless.
This year’s hose erupted
in a geyser
on its first day of work,
a hot Saturday in June.
Was the leak
From heat,
or on having to work weekends?
This disobedient hose
refused to lay flat,
didn’t like the faucet
and wanted to hook up
with whom
it wanted to hook up
but definitely not
with last year’s nozzle.
My lawyer
advises I go no
further with this poem
of defamation
about this year’s
crappy, low-quality,
trumped-up
hose.
Megan Baldrige is a gardening poet who patiently tries to put up with drought and insects in New Mexico. She is the author of Cultivating Weeds, published by Poetry Playhouse Publications.