Another poem I like

When I lived in Geneva, the preschool beneath my window had a pet rooster.  It never knew when to stop crowing, and I was often tempted to throw water balloons down on it.

The Complaint against Roney Laswell’s Rooster

Attention, Mister Roney Laswell–Roney,

short for Tyrone, I hear–

the hour your rooster blows,

 

four, is two too early.

Another two would do.  Go,

speak to your rooster, Roney.

 

–Maurice Manning

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