the spies next door

i think the neighbors

are up to something, they're too quiet,

too nice,

too friendly.

i think they may be spies

for moscow.

yesterday i saw the man kissing

his wife goodbye,

who does that?

they drink vodka too.

i see them out

in the back yard under their

strings of edison

lights, whispering while

drinking their vodka

and playing a kazoo.

when it snows they're out

their playing in it all day long.

reminds them of home, i guess.

i'm telling you, they're up

to something.

tonight i'm going to put

a glass up to the wall

and listen in.

see exactly what's going on

over there.