Dave the Angry Suburban Poet - My Lawn

Written by Sean Nitchmann

 

My name is Dave, I am … the angry suburban poet.

 

Get the hell off my lawn!

You kids

You Damn Kids

 

Haven't you seen me, rake in hand

Gathering the remains of autumns span

Neat piles of leaves ready to remove

Until they were scattered by the likes of you

You cut across my lawn to turn the corner

Stick to the sidewalk! Stick to the order!

 

And get the Hell off my lawn!

 

All winter I stood at my big picture window

Cup of joe in my hand watching the sun sparkle and glow

Across the frost on my lawn and later the snow

I can't enjoy it now, your foot prints have sliced

Through the stillness of my lawn, so perfect so nice

 

Why won't you stay off my lawn!

 

In the spring I seeded and fed and bathed

Every Saturday I conducted my symphony of blades

I coaxed and I cultured new shoots to take root

Rise to the heavens, my beauties, my fruit

But you trampled my terrain, my growth is uneven 

You’ve worn a path through my curbside eden

 

Use the Sidewalk! Do not use my lawn!

 

The days got longer the air got wet

I was mowing more often to keep it subset

When summertime came, so did you and your pet!

I was outside making love to my lawn

with my bare naked feet, but it didn't last long

I found that little gift so rude and so crass

When I stepped in a pile your beast left in my grass

 

My lawn is not open to the public!

 

But I showed you, and much to your dismay

I had my yard scraped and plowed and paved

So now go ahead cut across my land

My surface of concrete will weather your stand

 

But alas, just when I thought I had revenge so sweet

I spy you out walking the other side of the street!

 

Get the hell off my street!

You kids

You damn kids