neighborly ways

Have you been
with a man
with a twitch
and a limp,

a born again
neighborly twit
with an iron
wrench
and fat
hammer
filling his fist

who fixed
you good
that summer
he sullied
your wench

after Beefeater
gin was imbibed
on a backyard
bench made
of wicker,
so woody
so dense

then with
his wicked
gloat twisted
grin purloined
your booze
and re-crossed
his fence

just as
the coming
monsoon
in late June
commenced
its drench?