Each building on the block
was comprised of
4 townhouse units.
There was another boy
a couple years younger whose
bedroom was on the other
side of the wall from
my own.
Sometimes I would laugh
because I could hear his
mother
beating the **** out of him.

It was funny to me
for some reason.
Hearing her angry ranting
and his wailing.
Like an unexpected
radio-drama.

But then I realized that
if I could hear his beatings
through that wall
he could also then
hear mine.

It wasn’t so funny
to me
after that..