Songs of Heartbreak and Loss - Dec 8 2022

 

Songs of Heartbreak and Loss

Dec 8 2022

The faded elegance

of an old apartment

with high ceilings and thin walls,

wide hardwood floors

it would be a shame to cover.

So I walked softly,

put on notice

by the Russian army

on manoeuvres above me,

the sound of my neighbours

making love.

Which they did

without restraint

numerous times a day.

For no other reason

than they were young, and free

and the rent was cheap.

The handsome radiators

hissed and hummed

and were impossible to regulate.

A few windows

had been welded shut

by badly warped frames

and layer-on-layer of paint.

So it went from sauna

to meat locker

to plain uncomfortable,

nothing to be done.

Bit it was the love-making

that really got to me.

The headboard, banging against the wall.

His profanities

her screams.

The strange Eastern music,

and even the heavy breathing

that easily made it through

the thin plaster partition.

Was it helplessness, anger, envy?

Simple annoyance?

Or resentment

for how quiet I kept,

how small

I made myself?

I should have learned from them

to live large,

be less inhibited,

live and let live.

Instead, I left

first chance I got,

for a cramped rental

in a planned suburb

on a quiet cul de sac.

Where all I heard

were lawnmowers

snowblowers

car alarms.

No quickies, no midnight trysts,

no one making love

no surreptitious kisses.

Just lawn care

and driveways promptly cleared.

The sound of country music

leaking from idling cars.

Songs of heartbreak and loss,

with couples sitting stiffly

until the song was finished

and the windows had started to frost.

Where no one talked,

just a husband and wife

each lost in thoughts

of their own.