Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Internal Monologue ~ The Hellspawn Neighbor


Interior Monologue ~ The Hellspawn Neighbor



I curse the day my old neighbor sold his house
and let a drugstore farmer infest the block.
His waist-high grass harbors tick and flea and mouse,
a few copperheads for that cardiac paddle shock.

He came out to chew the fat and shake my hand
about the time he stopped cleaning out his swimming pool:
"We're holistically subsistence farming the land."
(must eat weeds and empty mulch bags, the damn fool.)

"I'm sorry those starving guinea hens got free--
and tore up all your flower beds like that.
Have I mentioned that I have an advanced degree?"
(was that in Freakazoid, or just Asshat?)

"..and something seems to kill off all my bees
in that hive I stuck in triple digit sun…"
(that you ignored, under dropping-limbed dead trees,
and all summer never watered even once?)

Now he's decided to mow just the front yard (half)
piles sour clippings high in giant piles.
Mosquitoes breed in his pool tarp's sagging raft
Is it wrong to hope it's him who gets West Nile?

~September 2012

Dead Hive~Note the Never-Filled Water Bottle.




Posted for   real toads
Kerry's Wednesday Challenge: The Internal Monologue
Kerry asks us to carry on an interior monologue which illuminates our feelings towards a human irritant with which we must deal. For me, that would be Idiotman next door.



VERY Optional Musical Accompaniment,
 cuz, Ten Minutes--still, a great song.





Photos © joyannjones
 

29 comments:

  1. oh my....neighbor from hell....gotta love how they bring the property level down....mine is OCD honestly he over cuts...and god forbid something blow into his yard....you will hear about...as will everyone....sheesh...so send west nile this way too...smiles.

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    1. Oh I guarantee that he would drive that guy into an institution in a week. ;_) I'm far from a neat freak, but there are things you need to do during a wildfire-prone drought, and one is cut the grass and not amass huge piles of dead vegetation everywhere. Plus, if you decide to raise something, you should understand you need to feed and water it. Just sayin. :P

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  2. Only you could tell us how you really feel in quatrains complete with an alternate rhyme scheme! Print it out and attach it to the dead beehive. See how long it takes him to find it.

    This was so entertaining, and contains real social commentary that many of us can relate to.

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  3. I love the poem but hate what brought it about. I have such a neighbor next door.

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  4. 'Blooood on your saadddle...." I know his career spans so many years. He has had many different sounds. This ones classic. Electric. Kind of pissed off.
    Reggae always sounds so happy. Even when one is in the middle of revolution,burnin' and lootin'. Great selections again. Really enjoying it. That Donovan blew me out of the water.
    Doctorate in Asshat, I think.

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    1. Glad you liked the Donovan--that's an old one I used to play on the guitar--easy and peaceful to sing. And Idiot Wind is a classic 'blowing like a circle round my skull/from the Grand Coulee Dam to the Cap-i-tull..." That particular Marley tune has always seemed liked the saddest reggae ever, and even then, you still want to dance and hug people. Good to see you passing through, Scott. Thanks.

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  5. No, do not send the Nile, you will surely get it back! Ugh, what a nightmare. Send him the poem, maybe the advanced degrees will help him to understand it. No "false idea, images" here. Or better yet, publish it in the local newspaper.

    And such winning lines of poetry deserve a party. I'm on my way with a blueberry apple pie. Got more Dylan?

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  6. I have nothing but scorn for anyone who neglects living things that depend upon them.

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  7. Poor bees. Great (subtle) rhymes. Great Dylan. k.

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    1. Always fun to rant, but the bees and the fowl he just let die do piss me off.

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  8. Oh my God, your neighbor is worse than mine! HORRIBLE about the bees and the fowl. Fantastic writing. Even your rants are formatted and brilliant.

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  9. There now, don't you feel better? I agree, send him the poem! Wait, it's too lovely to waste on him! Better all of us get to enjoy it.

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  10. I have a neighbor a few doors down that is a hoarder. He's an old single man who runs a rent house business. There is a blue tarp still on his roof from Hurricane Rita 7 years ago (it's hangin' by a thread, though). I have to admit I think thoughts like that about him!

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  11. Definitely a nightmare when a next door neighbor runs the property down and lets living things who depend on him die. I feel so sorry for the bees. An advanced degree in what? Idiocy? A good rant on a sad situation!

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  12. Who needs enemies when you have thoughtless neighbours like that.

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  13. hee, hee....I was not going to do this prompt (blockages in the poem regions) but I think you may have inspired me with this one. It reminded me of all the "hippies" I went to school with--actually they went to school with me because it was I hippie college, it took me living in Bar Harbor to realize I was not whatever the school was. these poor clueless kids, letting their composting worms die, getting ring worm from poor bathing and terrible other infections from swimming nekkid in stagnant streams. you didn't mean to do this, but I am now nostalgic for a lopsided vegan muffin that I have to peck at the crumbs in my hand like a bird and the anemia I experienced from too much cranberry juice and millet. viva la

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    1. Crackin me up, Izy. Did you have to live with macrobiotics? I had a longtime relationship with a 'bluesman' from the white suburbs who ate raw oatmeal and water for breakfast every day.Then liver and onions for dinner. I never did grasp the fine points of that stuff, but I probably wasn't high enough.

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  14. Makes me grateful for my (lovely, responsible, friendly) neighbors. It adds or detracts from our quality of life, for sure. But letting live beings who depend on him die? Who says we should outlaw the death penalty?! Sorry he's your neighbor but awesome poem about it. Also, love the Bob Marley. I'm so old I saw him live in Kingston when I lived in Jamaica for a year in the early 70's.

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    1. How cool! Never saw him live, though I'm old enough to have done so--he was one of a kind. AFA the neighbor goes, at least I have a good neighbor on the other side, and everyone else on the block as well, so it could be worse( see Laurie Kolp's comment.)

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  15. I bet his Ass would make a great Apiary!!!!

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    1. Have I ever mentioned I love the way your mind works?

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  16. People who neglect animals deserve a special spot in Hell! I did love your poem, though!

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  17. Oh geeeeez, I really should mow my lawn. I don't want to be "that" neighbor.

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    1. HA! I'm sure you never could be, DA. This guy works at it. ;_)

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  18. We had a neighbour like that: we moved house! I love your rant.

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  19. Can't have much resprect for those people who have degrees and love agriculture and want to save the world but don't realize it's hard work! Poor creatures need to stage an uprising and see how many diseases they can infect him with.

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    1. Amen--he has taken on a dozen 'subsistence farming' booshwah projects and every single one of them he's dropped like a bad habit once the temperature gets over 80 degrees. I don't mind him letting his garden go to weeds and rot, but it irks me to np end his obliviousness to the creatures he bought who depended on him. I fed his guinea hens till the last one was killed by a neighborhood dog--since he never bothered to build them a pen or a place to roost, just bought them as hatchlings and let them fly over his four foot chainlink fence when they got desperate from not being fed or watered.... Grrrr.

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  20. So sad about starving the birds and the bees. (No pun intended, but once it came out that way, I had to leave it.)
    I'm sure our neat-freak next door neighbor feels that way about us sometimes, but we do pay someone to mow the lawns and do the weeds, and of course we could never be accused of not feeding our dog.
    A beautifully tended, well-groomed poem, Joy. I love it.
    K

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'Poetry is an echo asking a shadow to dance' ~Carl Sandburg