It's Not As Bad As Vogon Poetry So Quit Yer Whining

Ode to a seeping puddle of water I found under my car this morning.

I stepped in you and you squished,
Noisily and smooshily,
As I opened my car door in the sunshine.


Puddle, you are here and you should not be.
Get thee gone, 
From my lawn and my life.


Neighbour-man,  useless greenest grass grower,
Waster of seven generations of water,
On sneezy Kentucky Blue Grass/Red Clover Blend.


Fix your crappy, five thousand dollar, 
"We had it installed by specialists" sprinkler system
Before I dig it up with my bare hands and jam it through your kitchen window.


Or else.