Out of our minds on a pleasant Sunday afternoon

I like the guy across the street
I think he’s a vet but I can’t be sure
I’ve never met him
he has a nice little house
smoke coming out of the chimney in the winter
like the American dream
in the summer he mows the lawn incessantly
I think he has OCD
I try real hard not to get annoyed
by the obnoxious tractor going on and on
but his madness triggers mine
sometimes I feel like screaming “It’s already mowed!”
he looks at me like
I’m a nervous wreck
maybe he feels like screaming
“It’s just the noise of a tractor!”
we don’t scream, though
we just look at each other
out of our minds—
two mental neighbors
waving hi sometimes
just to make sure
the other hasn’t completely lost it