Build your fences high
Privacy is key
Long drives and
Or maybe veiling hate
Of the unknown
Those flame throwers
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.
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
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.