a synergy
he’s better than most of them
in this place
better than the ones who scream in the hallway
let their kids run like wild dogs
smoke in the elevators
when you’re taking down the trash
or stand outside talking bullshit in the dawn
he’s better than the whore who used to live above me
the one who either fought or fucked
who moved out on christmas eve
and made me believe in the grace of miracles
but this new kid on the block
he and i are always up at the same time
i can hear his alarm go off with mine
hear him shuffling around the upstairs apartment
in a monday morning haze
banging shit
mumbling to himself
trying to navigate his way
through another unforgiving week
we seem to watch movies or television
on the same schedule
go to bed at the same time too
we always end up washing clothes together
the only difference is
i never hear him fucking
i don’t feel a sense of comradery with this man
a symbiosis either
instead i feel that we are both trapped
in the same dull cycle of life
i sort of hate him and his routine
the sound of his footsteps on my ceiling
the echo of his radio
the monotony of this man’s life
making mine that much more common and glaring
i wish he’d get a new job
or meet someone and spend nights at her place
start watching different tv shows
create a new laundry schedule
or just go mad one day
tear his place apart brick by brick
smash a few windows
shoot his tv elvis-style
throw his phone against the wall
as he yowled into the brooklyn night
declaring his independence from our madness
once and for all.
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