HAVE A NICE DAY

The couple next door are arguing,

loudly and relentlessly.

I had his opinion of her fat and useless brother

with my Chinese takeout.

And the main topics of the six-o’clock news

are his drinking and her spending.

My favorite cop show is interrupted 

by plates smashed against walls,

chairs crashed against floors.

I need to let the patrol cars know

that, yes there has been a murder,

but they are headed for the wrong address.

Even when I try to sleep,

I cuddle under their taunts, their accusations, 

as much as I do the sheets and blankets.

And, then, as I finally fall into dreamland,

they are still at it, upending my subconscious

with her rat-faced mother, his trailer-park girlfriend

with the fake eye-lashes and dyed blonde hair.

I awake next morning to silence, thank God.

They’re out in their yard. And I’m in mine.

We even pass pleasantries across the fence.

“Have a nice day,” they say. “Have a nice day,” I reply.

John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in Orbis, Dalhousie Review and Connecticut River Review. Latest book, “Leaves On Pages” is available through Amazon.