The Suburbs

An army of lawnmowers

Trim grass to perfect lengths

Same time every Saturday

Don’t be late

Or the neighbors will wonder why you’re

Out synch with the rest of us

Our kids play just within our grasps

Don’t stray too far

The only safety lies within the bounds

Of our streets where all the houses look the same

And everyone knows their place

And we all wake up on time

To stand at school bus stops

Or sit in traffic on the way to work

And then come home at the same time

Every day

Every night

But, I like the suburbs

With its predictability


On the surface

The financial advisor with two kids

Who works a 9 to 5 but still plays the drums for a death metal band

And practices loudly in his garage on the weekends

Or the grandma

Who writes vampire erotica

To the hum of lawnmowers right outside her sunny window

The serial killer who never misses a PTA meeting

He’s mowing his lawn right now

While his wife texts with her lover

You never know what’s going on inside someone’s mind

Inside someone’s house

Within the suburbs

2 thoughts on “The Suburbs

  1. This is brilliant, Tricia! The image of suburbanites as automatons is a bit startling, but also terribly accurate, I think. And I love the way that you show how people aren’t actual automatons, even though they might seem so to the casual onlooking god-type. ❤️❤️


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