APARTMENT LIFE, 2.0

I haven’t lived in an apartment in 20 years,
So it confirms my worst fears
That my Spot to Squat causes tears,

As well as lots of noisy sounds
Which, unfettered, Trickle Down
From the Flat Higher Up;
Where the most vociferous
Of Complainants lives.

Though HER OWN dogs produce MUCH shit,
She only complains about The Canine Mine
Every day and all the time.
If you ask me “Why?”,
I’ll have to proffer a fuzzy reply:

Apparently MY dog’s 5 minutes
Are TOO LONG sans his leash
To potty down steep cliffs in peace.
This Act only serves to Gnash
At my neighbor’s delicate teeth.
She doesn’t waste a minute short,
Regaling with salacious reports

To on-site Management, Ever-Clueless.
So I explain that “When I’m shoeless,
I step in the Shit of My Neighbor’s Dogs,
So why can’t SHE just pick
IT up?”

But when I inquire of “Management,”
They treat ME like I’M the Halfwit,
Gazing blank with empty stares
And peeve-petting careless glares,

As EVERY SINGLE ONE OF US
Wonders when my lease is up!