First off, I would like to thank whoever got to my blog by searching for "hot pants poem." I had to giggle a little bit when checking Google Analytics today.
Secondly, I'm designing a journal (think a quarterly magazine) for a class, and my journal is sustainability-focused, with this particular "issue" being about water. We have to include a poem, so I wrote one of my own. It needs a bit of critique, I believe:
Every Monday through Friday
a lawn sprinkler shudders on.
A fury, it beats the grass
with a hydrogen-oxygen compound,
and the whole yard swims and drowns,
a million tiny green heads
that couldn't fight the surface.
The whole place is a sickly swamp,
mud clumped dark and thick and useless.
Every day at six a.m.,
a lawn sprinkler shudders on in unison
with a million clicking brothers,
all raging and drowning and wasting
under a sun growing hotter and higher.