There’s a little get-together
In the house across the street
Where they’ll have some beers, some chips and dips,
And maybe grill some meat
Though it’s not the sort of recipe
My family cares to eat,
Still, I must admit, they’ve gathered quite a crowd.

All the cooking is downwind from me
There’s nothing I can smell
But I still—of course—am bothered
Cos the thought makes me unwell,
And notion of their cooking
Makes my life a living hell
So I’m thinking that it shouldn’t be allowed.

***
When my neighbor is relaxing—
Say, there’s no one else around—
He prefers a sort of music
With an odd and foreign sound
I imagine different harmonies
Like none I’ve ever found
Though his headphones keep his choice of music hidden

Now, his music doesn’t sound the way
That music’s meant to be
I believe it might be harmful—
Well, it seems like that to me—
I can’t hear it, but I hate it
So my path is clear, you see:
I must push to have that sort of noise forbidden.

***
Down the block there are some neighbors
Who are looking to be wed
But they’re not a normal couple—
No, they’re lesbians, instead;
When I think of them and marriage,
Why, a part of me goes dead
And our peaceful little neighborhood is wrecked

So I’m going to their wedding
Which they’ll have at City Hall
It’s a civil ceremony
Thus available to all
And I’ll steel myself to answer
When the J.P. makes the call:
“Is there anyone here gathered—“ “—I OBJECT!”

Inspired by today’s A Good Cartoon (which, of course, you should be reading daily).