let's get it on

my neighbor, Sheila,

tells me

as i sit on the front porch

that her

and her husband

are trying to have a baby

again.

i want to tell her,

i know.

i can hear you at night

going at it.

i can hear

Marvin Gaye on the stereo

for hours,

the popping of champagne

bottles,

and then the symphony

of bed springs

adjacent to our

shared townhouse wall.

i nod,

and smile,

there's a lull in the conversation

as i stare at her,

unsure what to say next,

then settle for

yeah, that's nice. kids

are great.

then,

how about this weather

we're having?