If you have read my blog in the past, you know that Rooster and I have spent a considerable amount of time living in a construction zone. It started a month after the COVID lockdown, stopped for a while, and has recently returned. We are not happy campers. The yellow-jacket guys doing the sewer are noisier and kick up more dust than the gas line guys. I decided to write a poem about our construction zone experience.
I’m taking the day off from writing a Ekphrastic poem
Because I want to bitch (Sorry, I mean complain.)
An army of yellow-jacketed men have invaded my home,
And they are driving rooster and me insane.
The loud noise of a jack hammer and a constant beep, beep, beep
And the traffic at night on the gravel and metal won’t let us sleep.
We have yellow caution tape running through our front yard,
The deep ditch instead of a sidewalk is making life so very hard.
We have to park a block down the street,
And walk through the alley with weary feet.
The demolished street is travel by every fool in town,
So they can kick up more dust and move it around.
Dust from the imported gravel flows through my windows and door,
There are days when we think we can’t take it anymore.
We’re moving into our second year of life in the construction zone,
Rooster and I wish they would go away and leave us alone.
Rooster wasn’t a big fan of my conspiracy theory,
He knows I exaggerate so it made him leery.
Now he admits the theory might be somewhat right,
The yellow-jacket men leave for the weekend and we are up all night.
Who is Molly Shea?
Molly Shea is an accomplished fictional short story writer from Indiana who writes short stories and novels about a fictional town called Tecumseh. To read more of her short stories and adventures, click here.
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