Sonnet: Mowing The Lawn At 7 A.M. Poem by elysabeth faslund

Hoping that neighbor don't start his mower
At seven a.m. Cause if he starts it...
Grass gonna fly, his shirt, shoes, and his cap.
But, I'm a peaceful sort, with a good heart...

Damned fool just cranked it up. Now I got to
Flatten all four tires...my car's tires, of course!
Then sashay over to his idiot
Self...bat my lashes, sweetly ask for help...

Which I don't need, cause my brothers taught me
Everything about tires and fixing...
But HE don't know that, and I ain't tellin...
Cause, long about eleven a...damn...m,

He will be through inflating all four tires,
And it will be too hot to mow his lawn.
---...
(He has to do it with a bicycle pump!)