Tree Job

My father always wanted us kids to go on tree jobs with him, hold ropes to keep him safe(my brother at a young age once walked off down the road to see about something, leaving my father to possibly fall), untie ropes after he lowers the branches down to the ground, drag brush, pile logs in the van...So when he asked me if I wanted to work I said yes. I am so fit and healthy now, I thought it would be easy and a fun way to hang with my daddy and make money. Unfortunetly I have not gone on a tree job in ten years or so and I forgot how much I hate it.

Ode to a Tree Job with my Dad

When I was a wee young un' kind of a jerk
thought it was becasue I was fat,
weak and lazy that I was ineffcient at the work
but now adulthood and knowing myself have shifted the paradiggum
I am ineffcient because I hate the dirty buggy work by jiggum! .
started off smashingly well by slipping on a rock
coverd in moss and leaves to reveal what lies beneath
a hale and hearty wigglin' rigglin'
earthworm beatle party.
I shudder even now as I recall
the creepy crawl of
Daddy Long Legs on my shoulders
inchworms on my arms....
Each minute more sweaty and tired
text messaging friends trying to get fired
I sawed some branches and untied the rope
pops could see i was losin hope
of ever gettin paid so after a bit
i said
fuck it! I quit.
I sat on the drive
alive with large black ants
trailing all over my pants
Daddy ate his lunch two boiled eggs minus the yolks
Lettuce and tomatoe homemade bread baked with no salt
and said it was my fault
that the work wasn't done
but he hoped I had fun
He said he knew it would end this way
so we dragged a few more branches
and called it day.