Neighbors at close quarters
and I wonder exactly
how many of us
had the same thought
perched on balconies
and fire escapes
I can’t exactly look away
as one tired woman carries
her bags and her feet
up three floors

I watch her through a narrow
hole --all at close quarters
buildings choking buildings
and on top of every ceiling
lays another screenplay

someday, I think,
I’ll write them all
all the stories in the world
I’ll visit every floor
and knock it out
find eulogies in dust bunnies
and the toys we lost long ago
in the vacuums under our beds
there, with our dreams
under our beds
because they scared us too

it’ll work when it’s meant to work
as it’s meant to work
and you shouldn’t force it
any harder than that
or it’ll lose its taste
and you’ll push it away
to the side of your plate

some things can wait till later
just don’t drop the pen
let the ink run dry
then let it run with your wet eyes
there was something in them
maybe just a bit of grime
or maybe you drove with the window down

call it what you want
because that’s how it works
when it wants to.