My neighbor's curtains are ragged
They hang in tatters and shreds
I wonder about the state of his soul:
If his spirit is alive or dead.
He plays Bruce Springsteen loudly
He yells along with The Clash
Perhaps he is in there dying
Maybe he is just getting smashed.
I wonder about the days he plays
Kenny Rogers and Lucinda Williams.
Is he in there longing for some
Long lost country home again?
Or is he feeling his oats
A little kick to all that smoke?
I suppose it doesn't matter
I guess I don't much really mind
But might yell a request to
Put on something different
Of a jazzier bluer kind.
I wonder what he thinks of me
Singing Fire and Rain and
Have A Cup of Tea?
Padding around my room
In slippers, smelling the
Coffee and the blooms
In a fug of ugly self pity
Shut in the safety of my tomb.
I washed my curtains yesterday
I threw them in the tub
I had water up to my elbows
And began to scrub scrub scrub
I can't risk someone wondering
About who is shut indoors
Questioning my entertainment
My existence, my work
In relation to other people's laws.
I turned down the music
Then put my headphones in
Piped some wall to wall
Miles Davis into the
Bathroom full of steam.
He is playing Thunder Road again
And boy he is playing it loud.
Yet I never see anyone else go in
To form some party-orientated crowd.
Just how do curtains get that wasted
Did birds tear them apart?
Perhaps he sits with scissors
Trying to let the light in
Past the white boy jersey shore
Dumb butt rock Brucey sound.
I would be totally fine with no neighbors, except I don’t seem to be able to function outside of a city. What were they playing? Worse than fricking Bruce Springsteen and Lucinda Williams? Thank you for saying hello. I’m flying a little close to disaster out here – there is no continuation of subsidy and it would appear my ‘help’ is how can I put this delicately…politically opposed to my existence in the USA. See…see I can be diplomatic! Red hat, sweetie….red fucking hats…
It’s been a while since having those songs…I use the term loosely…inflicted on me, so don’t recall the names…I’ve never been much of a city person…prefer having open space around and some solitude.
I spent a little time up on Castiac Lake, near LA just after I left Los Angeles. It was pretty up there in a desert kind of way. I always feel most alone in cities – small town America can be a little intense for me, and the wilderness…well I suppose I have had enough of it personally, but totally get the desire for that space. As for the songs…yikes! It is always good to be where pleases the most. BTW your recent poetry has a real edge to it. Really enjoying your words. Your friend ~D
So enjoy your readings…I don’t have real next door neighbors any more which is fine with me…never enjoyed their selection of music. 🙂
I would be totally fine with no neighbors, except I don’t seem to be able to function outside of a city. What were they playing? Worse than fricking Bruce Springsteen and Lucinda Williams? Thank you for saying hello. I’m flying a little close to disaster out here – there is no continuation of subsidy and it would appear my ‘help’ is how can I put this delicately…politically opposed to my existence in the USA. See…see I can be diplomatic! Red hat, sweetie….red fucking hats…
It’s been a while since having those songs…I use the term loosely…inflicted on me, so don’t recall the names…I’ve never been much of a city person…prefer having open space around and some solitude.
I spent a little time up on Castiac Lake, near LA just after I left Los Angeles. It was pretty up there in a desert kind of way. I always feel most alone in cities – small town America can be a little intense for me, and the wilderness…well I suppose I have had enough of it personally, but totally get the desire for that space. As for the songs…yikes! It is always good to be where pleases the most. BTW your recent poetry has a real edge to it. Really enjoying your words. Your friend ~D