In my neighbor's yard of late.
It's my preferred revenge:
Their music is taste rape.
Out thunders Rush and Journey
I've heard Charlie Daniels too.
Since they nix it right at ten o'clock
I'm stuck with tossing poo.
I can't call the police
Because ten's the hour by which
All loud sounds must be muffled.
Plus, the cops will tell who snitched.
I know, you think I'm wimpy.
A yellow little prick.
But I'd rather work discreetly,
Plus, for stress, it does the trick.
Sure, you toss a pile of dog logs,
Chocolate Cheetohs or fudge swirl.
Aim for walkways, vents or lawn chairs,
Filthify their blaring world.
I know I'm doing right
I will not entertain protests.
Besides, I'm afraid they'll beat me:
Kara-tee nunchaku death.
