Timber

*this may be my first semi-legit beat poem. As you read, please pretend it is me, reciting it and accompanying myself with the bongos, and dressed completely in black with sunglasses. NO beret though. My head's too ginormous for hats and my hair's to bushy.

I, Lumberjack
have a knack
for taking whacks
with my axe
to ponderous, proud, pine.
You, tall tree, see me
Approach
and bite blade
to your body.
Noble Pine, stretching high
I make you mine
with each swing, thrust, and cut
I take a chunk, a hunk
from your trunk
until the roots, your roots,
life giving trails and tails
who feed needs and strive
to keep you alive,
the anchors of time,
from which so high you climb,
are cut
off
and you die,
in one fell fall
one deep descending dive
into you doom.
Heralded by my cry, one wailing,
loud lusty sonorous shout
of
TIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMMMMMMMBBBBBBBBBBBBBBEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRR!
a tree falls in the forest with only me to hear it.
I move on to the next.