The Lawnmower Man showed up around seven. And rode his mower around the patch of grass outside my window for six hours.
Oh, Lawnmower Man, what is it you do?
Our lawn is small and ragged.
You ride for hours.
Perhaps our grass is sweeter, or colder,
or really is greener than the other lawns.
Perhaps you watched my car pull in,
to greed the delicate fingers of the waking dawn.
You saught to teach me a lesson
In the dangers of being out too late on a school night.
Not realizing that I go to night school.
Now I feel hung-over
but without the fun the night before.
This is not the first time
you have stolen my sleep.
Should I write you a note, perhaps,
or build a wall between us?
I've heard that fences improve