A Prayer to My Neighbor Throwing a St. Patrick’s Day Party
Dear Neighbor, Who art in 3B,
I know St. Patrick’s day is basically a riot,
But I can’t beg you enough, please keep your party quiet.
I know you started early, to kegs n’ eggs, made a vow,
But you’re 30, I thought this would be over by now
The drunken public fights,
the green beer mugs scattered about,
Is no way to celebrate your ancestors
surviving famine and drought
The blaring Irish Music,
Your friend who thinks they can Step Dance,
And those Michael Flately Jokes,
we get it, he’s the lord of the dance.
I don’t ask for much, but I do work at home,
But with the parade outside, I can’t leave or roam
Your horrible fake accents I can hear through the wall,
And I stepped in your vomit, thanks again, fireball.
And don’t get me started on your food of corned beef and cabbage,
It smells awful and is causing me physical damage.
The only thing that brings me joy in some awful way,
Is knowing tomorrow you have work, and its Monday.