Moronic Rhyme

 

A neighbor moronic we all have to bear,

As he shoots his guns nightly at things in the air,

Or perhaps at things swimming or eating or running;

He thinks that he is exceedingly cunning.

 

He hoarded dried foods for the end of our stay

On this planet computered (doomed by Y-2-K).

His lame ideology damns all but his “sisters”

And “brothers” and preachers (who to us are blisters).

 

Certifiably crazy is this next-door dolt,

With his fervent religion and his 45 Colt,

And we wonder how long it will be till the day

He hears God whispering, “Blow the neighbors away.”