Ode to construction

I think there is a tiny flaw
in New York City’s book of law
that would allow a power saw
to whine outside my window —

All. Day. Long.

There is no where I can withdraw
from blades that whirr and gnash and gnaw.
To think I once enjoyed the thaw!
I miss the quiet of snow —

All. Day. Long.

That loud screech was the final straw!
I’m headed uptown to the spa
where insane cackles (ha ha ha!)
don’t matter ’cause you glow…

All. Day. Long.