Hey Mister Away Man, will you turn your green light out tonight? You never kept it lit before, the one that burns outside your door, Mister Away Man, please turn out your light. All these lights are killing my stars.
Hey Smiling Cat Lady, you keep your blinds down now. I miss seeing your big cat boy,
calico windowsill warmer who stood up and greeted only at seeing your shadow.
Hey blind boy, your big blue eyes not seeing me, I miss your gentle feline crooning coming from next door. I’m sure mama was not too pleased I PsssPsssPsssPsssted you, causing you curiousity on the windowsill, her little blind boy crooning for the door, but his big, blue eyes were too much for me to ignore.
Hey new neighbor piloting your giant red pick-up, I hear your dinner in the microwave, the door slamming, and it reminds me not to eat in the midnight hours. Who wants to hear bumping doors all hours of the night, or the toilet flushing, or maybe the sound of a Tums bottle opening again. Hey new neighbor, built like a stick, bent in the wind, long pretty hair blowing as you carry your wee laundry bag downstairs like it weighs all of the world. Are you okay?
Hey lone neighbor will you ever wave to me, or does your digital cammo tell you there’s no law that says we must be friendly.
I hear you, Missus neighbor, coming home from a long day, boots clomping down the walk like Clydesdales heading for the barn. I hope your day was good.
You see me in and out my door 50 times a day, leaning over the balcony looking down on the grass Mister Tony works so hard to raise from the dead. You see me sometimes in jammies, or shorts, most often in jeans and a t-shirt that makes you wonder. Do you know that you make me wonder, and would you worry if you knew I am writing about you?
Oh yeah, mister, you know who you are. I got my eye on you, and I am definitely writing about you. I think your days are numbered.