upstairs downstairs
upstairs
my neighbor put on his music
the kind that reigned terror
and held an apartment building hostage
while downstairs
my fiancé unpacked the kitchen
as i tried getting our living room in order
i shouted to her
do you hear that shit?
my fiancé came into the living room
of our shit-hole railroad apartment
she cast her eyes up to the ceiling and sighed
again, i said
we’d been through it with neighbors
club girls and party girls
a bitch in pittsburgh who blasted steelers games
at top volume
when she wasn’t killing us with garth brooks
the dog who barked into our window at 3 a.m.
until i threatened to kill it and its owner
on new year’s eve
upstairs
my neighbor was pacing to his music or dancing
or whatever the fuck he was doing to create more noise
while downstairs
i grabbed a broom without a handle
and started pounding into the ceiling
the rusted metal leaving pock marks all over
and chunks of plaster on our floor
we hadn’t even been there three hours yet
day one into a one-year brooklyn lease
and things were already looking bleak
but at least the music had stopped
is it me? i said
is it just my luck, my lot in life?
my fiancé shrugged, went back to unpacking the kitchen
while upstairs
my neighbor shouted and punched walls
made idle threats into the unknown
before slamming his front door
and pounding his way toward me
all the way
downstairs
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