I come to understand,


why old ladies tend to live on tea and toast,


and old gentlemen tend to live on tinned soup.

What is this?


When, how,

did it start?




They carefully pick up their dog's poop,

in a little plastic bag,

and tie it shut.


Then leave it by the sidewalk.

And walk away.



A message?

The days are filled with construction noise:
drills, hammers, saws, machines, thuds.


The neighbours come home and the evening is filled
with bangs, clunks, doors closing.


The neighbours get up and the morning is filled
with bangs, clunks, doors closing.


The outside noise filters in:
dogs, horns, sirens, skate boarders (ka-thunk, ka-thunk).


I've lived many places,
all spoiled by humans and their thoughtless noise.


How I hate them.

Walking on the streets:

People.


Shopping in the stores:

People.


Riding in the elevator:

People.



Coming home,

I crawl into bed:


Traumatized.

Windchimes on an apartment balcony.




Seriously?

Outdoor speakers.


For those who think

They're the only people



In the world.

Installations, repairs, service.



Isn't it sad

that in our modern world,




it's such a rare treat,




to find

someone

who actually knows

what they're doing