the couple next door
are having a fight. you hear a dish
hit the wall.
a glass.
there is more arguing.
there is a high pitched scream
and then the slamming of a door.
the baby begins
to cry.
you look out the window
and see the man
speed off.
shaking his head, scratching
his beard.
the woman comes out, holding
the baby,
she's in tears, standing on the porch.
there is nothing
you can do or say about any of this.
you don't know them.
they don't know you. but you know
the fight.
you don't miss it.
Sunday, May 1, 2016
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