Leaf Blowers

IMG_4825.jpgBuild your fences high

Privacy is key

Long drives and

Automated gates;

Counterfeit security

Or maybe veiling hate

Of the unknown

The overgrown

The unwashed


Leaf blowers

Those flame throwers

Of middle-classdom

Asserting power

And marking territory

Cleaner than pissing on the street

But with all the pungency of that act

That lingers in the air.

Beware all those who let leaves leave their mark

Who do not rush to intervene where nature is too slow to clear.

That mush,

The mass of curly edged foliage

Holding pedestrians ransom

‘How do we pass this pile?’

The tuts and passive-aggressive head shakes of those who like leaves to be heard and not seen

Clean paths and manicured lawns


Woe betide any child who dares to scrunch in the tempting stockpile of autumnal waste

Hastily holstering the leaf blower

Careful you don’t get caught in the crossfire

Blown away


Like a scene from the Stepford wives

Preconditioned to uniformity

Don’t leave your bins out too long

Don’t let the grass grow too long

Don’t keep the curtains shut too long

Don’t let your facade down for too long


Keep up the pretence

The pretence of a settled quiet life

Pretend apocalypse is not at your door

Hold all those precious strands of affluent suburbia together

‘He never left’

‘She isn’t dying’

‘He only hits me when he’s drunk’

‘They’ll visit again soon….maybe’


Plan another project

‘Maybe we could repaint the lounge – it’s looking dated’

Anticipate the next getaway

A mini break

‘Afterall we deserve it’

Getaway from reality

That grinding mundaneness, blandness, heaviness of the everyday.

The distraction and anaesthetic of buying more.

Doing that little bit of work to the house.

Hypnotised by the ritual tasks of daily life.


Make sure you don’t look death in the eyes

It’s rude to stare

When tragedy strikes

Quickly sweep up the aftermath

Make sure the leaves don’t fall on your patch of path.



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