mowers, blowers, maintenance crews and screw-loose
high-pitched, failing-metal hymns of hand-tools,
always someone shatters early morning
sleep-in weekend lazy side-street silence
each and every Saturday since some fool’s
doomed to die in chest-clutch hypertension
type-A never could relax dawn-cracking
wake the neighborhood- he lives next door now!
~
Wurkz OfArt 