The gopher excavates a tunnel
From my neighbor’s yard to mine;
His property’s a desert waste,
Devoid of grass or bush or vine.
There’s nothing there for the vicious beast
That could satisfy his appetite;
But my little acre is lush and green,
And that’s where he comes to dine at night.
He chews away at tomato plants
Until every last one is dead;
Green peppers fall in stricken rows,
Yet more destruction lies ahead.
My neighbor’s dogs sniff the gopher’s trail,
And dig deep trenches in vain pursuit,
But the critter goes savagely on its way,
Devouring every last tender root.
I often complain to my neighbor,
He insists there’s nothing he can do;
“It’s your own fault,” he advises me,
“I’d stop feeding them if I were you.”