My Neighbor Is A Tyrannosaurus Rex Poem by John W. McEwers

Across the hall, roaring, bellowing
jaw snapping and feets trampling,
Mr. Jacobs is a caricature of restless rage
on into the night.

So loud, so near,
the anger a deluge beating
against the walls of my home,
dripping from the plaster
like corn syrup
in a B horror movie.

He is old now, but once he was young,
working construction
and in working order.
His arms were damaged by a rogue girder,
and never quite healed right,
always curled and risen from his sides.

He stamps, growling incoherent
at the television,
the volume turned all the way
so he can hear it over himself.

It's the Jeopardy theme,
and he's screaming with enough rage
that I'm sure the contestants can hear him -
- 'Tyrannosaurus Rex! What is a Tyrannosaurus Rex! ? '

You are, Mr. Jacobs.