Good Fences

Some scream late at night, play music
Loud and fight. Others you never see,
Never greet, like the allusive Kingfisher,
They don't exist. Maybe you see them once.
Once, just once, if at all. . . .

Eons ago I watched Belushi and Aykroyd
In that surreal, strange flop, "Neighbors",
When John says, bewildered,
"Welcome to the end of the road,
I guess." And sadly, that's how it is
Here -- with the neighbors and I.
Apartment dwellers: creeping cockroaches,
Terrified transients drowning inside
Publishers Clearing House dreams.
Two working mates yelling hate,
Deciding if it will be the rent
Or the second car payment
That'll be trashed after this argument.

"What in the hell you lookin' at,
Asshole?!" A nice greeting, yes.
Ozzie and Harriett, move next door,
Would you please?! But then again,
Fred Sanford or Archie Bunker will do.

- Oh, I wish they'd just get it
Over with -- fight or fuck
Or whatever they're into
Tonight. She screams instead.
Tomorrow, no, wait, today,
I'll report them, call the office
And complain, but cheap
Entertainment goes far
Behind suburban bars

Maybe at dawn
I'll call in sick, then sleep.

Maybe I'll move downtown,

Maybe I'll buy a dog.

by Sam Vargo