cannabineer
Ursus marijanus
Poe's imagery is compelling, but the sort of consuming passion that would make one stab a mower 23 times in the Forum, or lick the poison off some dear emo's lips, or wash one's hands for evermore ... that is Bard-a-licious.
I was moved to explore a third source of metaphor mentioning motives for murdering mowers in masonry. I am thinking Shelley might deliver.
I had a mower from a distant land
That said "Two mighty pulls
is what the Manual says will start me.
Near me, in the clay,
half stoned a sunken visage frowns,
whose sneer of cold command
not one fuck from me conjured."
I stamped on the lifeless thing
and, with mighty despair,
beheld the towering rage
that bade me Build Something Fucked,
and contort this wheeled seed of the Betrayer
into hearth's monoxide-venting Hell.
Behold my works, ye Toke&Talkers,
and consider twice
the fate of being a balky device.
Untouched by Artifice's whirling blade
The laughing grass stretches tall and far.
