Neighbourhood Watch – Poem

11

Spying on my neighbours,

I see what they all do,

I know which ones give “favours”,

I know who’s sniffing glue.

 

No matter what the weather, 

I’m always taking notes,

I do it for good measure,

I’ll read you what I wrote.

 

 Mr Dunder, has a hunger,

 He lives at number five,

 He dreamt of cucumber, while deep in slumber,

 And ate his wife alive.

 

 Mrs Nicks, she’s eighty-six,

 But you wouldn’t know it’s true,

 She likes her kicks, she wanted a fix,

 So she got a full-body tattoo.

 

 Reverend Pete, he looks so sweet,

 But he really loves a tipple,

 I heard him bleat, so indiscrete,

 He still drinks from his mother’s nipple.

 

 Mrs Jones, collects garden gnomes,

 Has one for each new lover,

 Last night she moaned, and then she groaned,

 Sounds like she’ll need another.

 

 All this might seem strange,

 All this may seem bizarre,

 But I promise I’m not deranged,

 Even as I follow them in my car.

 

 I just want nice neighbours,

 Folks who aren’t taboo,

 So excuse my odd behaviour,

 And while you’re here I’ll follow you!

(49)

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