The Trees Are Always Greener... Poem by Jessica Lindsey

The trees are so pretty that line this road
but I've seen them so often that I've quite forgotten
I could drive in my sleep, yet avoid every pothole
and name every street without reading the sign on the pole.
To work and home in a daze, daydreaming
about what Jim said today and his meaning
but I don't care enough to take the left at the light
that leads to his house and I always turn right.
I used to look at the peeling paint houses and
try to picture them in original splendour
now sectioned to pieces by cardboard and plaster
so when the mailman's humping her faster and faster
in the apartment next to yours you turn up the volume
and feign ignorance (her husband's a pastor) .
But i've long since lost passion for the crumbling mansions
and commute up the road transfixed on the list
of things I need to do-call my mother make dinner
walk my dog and remember remember remember
when Jesse gets home to give him a kiss and
try not to think how i sorely I miss
enjoying the trees on roads other than this.