The Neighbor Ape

The Neighbor Ape

She was aping me
but really, she was singing
My ears cry wax tears

I thought my next door neighbor was imitating me (See: Tiny Hands Equal Enormous Wrath), singing some sort of super vibrato junk that I could hear through the walls. I sing all the time, and I thought well this bitch must be crazy to make fun of me. But I figured out in the last two days or so that she's a singer. I use that term very loosely, because for goodness sake I thought she was playing around. I heard her very clearly the other day singing some operatic business. It was tepid. Weak. Flaccid. It sounded like very boring white anglo church music. So now I have to listen to that crap, in addition to the dragging chair sounds and music with French horns. One night when I no longer care I will drag my keyboard out in front of her door and sing something awful, like something by the Grateful Dead, or wait, no! I will sing Puttin' on the Ritz in the mesmerizing style of Taco. I will dress in a tuxedo and have a light saber cane at the ready. I will also have my make up done like Tim Curry and do snakey head movements.Take my Taco neighbor, take my Taco and deal with it.