Dear upstairs neighbor,
I don't know you
Just your footsteps
How many feet do you have?
Many, many feet
Heavy feet
Running, jumping feet
Dear upstairs neighbor,
I don't know you
Just your thrash metal
Turned waaay up
Even after midnight
When I get a job
I will buy you headphones
Nice ones
Dear upstairs neighbor,
I don't know you
Just that you're learning to play the bongos
Against the wooden floor
Which acts like
One
Big
Giant
Bongo drum
Especially after midnight
Dear upstairs neighbor,
I don't know you
Just that you go to bed at 4 a.m.
And I lie awake
And dream of new hobbies for you
Like stamp collecting
and
Coloring.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
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4 comments:
Maybe you should change apartments and live upstairs so bongo boy can listen to your footsteps.
Love the poetry.....a whole new occupation.
Glassylady
Truth be told, the thrash metal is more annoying. But I'll see if Bongo Boy is up for the switch.
Colouring.
GW
Dear GW,
I didn't have you pegged for being a cultural imperialist. Especially since you're a Scottish Catholic. Not exactly in the ruling class. But nice to hear from you all the same.
A-L
P.S.
Woke up a 4 a.m. on Sunday to watch the nil-nil draw b/w Celtic and Rangers. Woo hoo. Nothin' beats watching lackluster Scottish Football like waking up at 4 a.m. to watch lackluster (lacklustre, to you) Scottish Football.
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