Folks talk about the buzz
of sawblades. It starts as more
of a wet, muted thump!
when the blade makes contact,
and then a dizzy, slowly rising hum
as it sinks in, doppler razor
Wood dust sparks like fireworks
from the trunks, they vomit out
their tinder guts:
'specially the sequoias, like a goddamn river.
Whine, that sonorous creak, bending downâ€”
Reckon I trust, things still turn out
like they must. The stumps still cling
in uneven rows. They'll rip 'em up
next week, I suppose.
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