ALL MY NEIGHBORS
All my neighbors are gruesome fellows, growing
stock keys and knives in the middle of their gardens;
keeping wealthy wives locked deep within a closet.
I barely speak to them, but nod. Every milkman they've
ever had never left the house alive, was never seen again.
I've got some gruesome neighbors with kith and kin of
oh such monstrous proportions. They light rooftop fires
just to read the mail. They pour hot lava down upon us
all just to make their own comfortable warmth. How any
of this ever got started is all beyond me; but now, for
the moment, that's they way it is and how it's gonna' be.
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