Who peeked through her window occasionally
She screamed a lot
And her cotton-white hair and steely eyes
Did nothing to improve my opinion of her
She'd hang out her panties and shirts and socks
Every
Single
Day
Because she had nothing better to do
But fill up the washer and scrub-a-dub-dub
Her clothes
They were hideous, too
All the while I felt sorry for her
Especially when she cut her grass
With that ancient mower
And when she talked of her husband
With a scratchy, nasty voice
One day she kicked a basketball away from me
I think she meant to steal it
Instead I grabbed it and asked her
"Why are you so mean?"
She's gone now
I think she takes pills
And plays bridge and makes puzzles with the other old folks
She's happy
And
She wants to come home
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