COCK TEASE

Who needs an alarm clock when the neighbors have roosters?  Notice the plural on that my friends.  I'm not talking just one neighbor/one rooster, I'm talking multiple neighbors and God only knows how many cock-a-doodle-doing roosters.  The neighborhood in which we're renting is considered to be somewhat upscale as far as the pueblo goes which makes the rooster situation that much more comical.  Hey, buzz me in through the security gate but oh, wait.  Don't let the rooster out!  The pueblo streets, lined neatly with orange trees and flowering bouganvilla give no hint as to the feathered flock that sings us awake each morning, warning us  of the approaching dawn. Thinking back, I didn't notice it so much a few months ago.  Do roosters hibernate?  But now that spring is upon us it seems that the flock has doubled, perhaps tripled in size.  And in volume.


That trumpet tongued flock of cocks has my number too.  For as soon as my bare feet hit the cold tile floors and I shake off that last hope of a wink of sleep, they mock me.


With frosty silence.


Bastards.