Why spend your time and energy to maintain this?

It's a harsh environment, that land between the road and your sidewalk. It floods during heavy rains. In summer it gets packed down by foot traffic. Salt leaches into it from icy winter sidewalks. All year, rain or shine, unfamiliar dogs poop there.

You mow it regularly, pretending there's still some grass among all those dandelions. Every so often you think, "I should do something about the boulevard." But what can you do?

Here's a little ditty to get those mental gears spinning...

The Boulevard Blues

Cain't get nuthin' but weeds to grow.
Got no time to yank and hoe.
This sad stretch of sod I hate to mow
Keeps bringin' me more bad news.
I'm singin' the Boulevard Blues.

Called the Horticulture Hotline for advice.
They said "Tall plants attract ticks and mice.
The city's gonna mow 'em and charge ya twice.
Plant 'em tall and you'll never lose
Them mizrable Boulevard Blues."

Wrote to my sister out in Idaho.
She wrote back, "A lotta plants stay real low.
Take yer thyme, sage, lavendar, oregano --
And if ya cain't bear to choose,
Plant 'em all and lick the Boulevard Blues."

Got a cousin lives in Colorado.
She says "Want a lawn ya never hafta mow?
Find yerself the grass they call 'buffalo'.
I'm telling ya it ain't no ruse,
Guaranteed to stomp the Boulevard Blues."

Paid a visit to a friend in Ioway,
She told me all 'round the mid-USA
Folks're plantin' shortgrass prairie night and day,
Diggin' up strips of grass they never use,
Shakin' off the lowdown Boulevard Blues.

'Nother cousin from the desert southwest
Swears up and down that rocks do it best.
Her garden with a lotta rocks is blest.
You can get 'em in all sizes, shapes, and hues,
And they cured her case of Boulevard Blues.

Now these good folks got so many idees,
Fillin' my brain up with possibilities,
Come Spring I'll be out there on my knees
They ain't left me a single excuse
To hang onto these no 'count Boulevard Blues.