the noise in my apartment - a funny true story
the room is quiet, or so I am told
when seams of curtains dance in wind
softly swaying blinds sing
cannot see out, or in
alone-ness is relative as voices drive through
their footsteps clatter the walk by
cars gnawing the roadside
a chainsaw purring in the street below
a fan hums her back drops an octave
too low to hold a melody
yet as I listen
this quiet river runs into my room
folds over kitchen tiles where
La Cucaracha plays on in an all night show
tiny migrants scour her countryside
their grass skirts screaming out behind the cracks
in wedges and in drawers
those hula hula girls sway in random chorus
skimmer upon legless smiles
hiding in their shy futility
abiding in plain sight sound
I warn them
tell them
bugs
should
NOT
be
seen!
but I
hear them
imagine their tiny voices bleating
fleeting serenades
so I won’t wash them away
so I will let them stay and dance
and party at my all night kitchen cafe
bring in family and friends
relatives from Tijuana and Albuquerque
they ask me to join them
viva la revolucion
become one of their gang
I point out that this is
MY APART ment
where I am meant to live
free
from conditions
intrusions
exclusions
apart
in my isolation
humanity raging around my periphery
peering about corners, yet never really touching ME
my zen like existence squashed like a bug
in solitude
in death
life is an inhumane thing
as one falls over the edge of a sink into the drain of god
a spiral circus swirling wherever the current carries
god knows where? god has a plan
and as that river in my room eddies
I climb out the other side onto dry land
climb up out of that kitchen sink apart-ment
join the noise of the crowd in my apartment
on the OTHER side of the curtains
someone at the door knocking
a sudden silence
“maam, LAPD. we have a report that there is a noise
coming from your apartment.”
“sorry, officer. it isn’t me. it’s la cucarachas.
they keep me up with their wild music.”
“yes, well can you tell them to keep it down?
people trying to sleep and all...”
“yes, of course..”
I shut the door. there is no sound
I walk into the kitchen, turn on the lights
as I lift up a plate
a strange noise from the sink
a bug looks up at me from the drain,
says to me -
“the party started ages ago....
where have you been?”
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