The Neighbor is where you can read some fine poetry – I particularly like the flow of ‘the neighbor’ and it’s wistful, watching theme. Billy has caught ‘neighbor’ watching well. G:)

The Naga

She waved at me from across the street

with her flabby arms, like she was in a parade.

There was no candy at my feet. She was still

in her slippers, we didn’t need each other

just the gesture. She had everything she needed,

water, shelter, food, and heat.

Long ago the natives depended on each other

for survival. Now, she with her kind and me

with mine, we look good on paper downtown.

Hell, I don’t even know her but we have watched

each other’s movements for sixteen years now.

Perhaps we will meet?

It’s a quiet street, no outlaw’s just sparrows

and squirrels that watch for hawks. We don’t need

each other for safety, for trading whiskey, furs,

guns or gold dust. The ground doesn’t rumble today.

My lever action collects rust.

We have become bells that ring only when things

go wrong. We are somewhere between apathy…

View original post 176 more words

One response to “The Neighbor

  1. Billy Malanga

    Thank you.

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