Noise Complaint

Through Chiara’s Keyhole

On a chilly November night.

My eyelashes whispered against the brass hole and sheetrock

As I scanned

Counting the limpid shapes hanging from his rubber-shrouded hands

One two

Three four

Five…six

Seven?

Eight?

Eight. Eight plastic bags.

He was carrying eight plastic bags into his sterile, desolate apartment.

-

He lived inside a room

A miniature room

Crowded with plastic containers

Vials of neatly labeled doses

And plenty of gadgets that go beep in the night

-

I'm not "spying" per se...

Not at all.

I don't practice my "right to bear arms,"

So I look to other means of self-protection

Knowledge is my only shield.

-

I watched as his pruned knee locked

A transient tremble

Just for a moment

I reckoned he’d fall

I didn’t dare wince, else I may miss it.

-

I had every reason to feel bad for the guy

With his frail old bones and a grimace

Which he hid beneath a blue paper mask

But I could not.

-

He unloaded the bags from his vibrating arm

One at a time

Set them on a metallic grey bench

The soul of a dentist's office.

He slicked them down with a sterilizing wipe

Relentless rituals

-

He removed his rubber gloves

Radioactive rummage

Sat with a heave and a ho

A somber gaze, motionless

For a moment, just a moment

Pity twisted my heart

-

His eyes flicked upward

Quick as a match lights a flame

For a moment, I thought they'd snatch me up

Perhaps he's discovered my door has eyes, too

-

I will not feel remorse.

A parasite shouldn't be pitied

He's not just an old man

He's a spider

He's my enemy.

-

Through Clyde’s Keyhole

On a tepid October evening.

I couldn’t quite see the witch.

I forgot my contacts that night.

-

But I sure could hear her.

She entered her apartment singing.

Humming, for God’s sake

Like she had just come back from frolicking a meadow.

-

In her hand,

(A hand that looked too soft to have endured much)

She held a leash

A bright yellow leash

Which, at the end of it

Held her wicked little dog

-

I counted how many times she dropped her keys as that foul beast tugged her

CRASH

CRASH

CRASH

Three friggin’ times.

I didn’t need a pair of eyes to know that much.

-

At last, the dragon was slain.

She opened the damn door.

-

She lived inside a room

A large room

Bursting with colors

Enough of ‘em to pop a blood vessel

Vivid shades of orange, green, pink

A booby trap of shoes strewn about the front entrance.

“AWOOOOO,” I howled through the little brass hole, the cold of it brushing my lips.

-

I grabbed a pair of glasses and ran back to see

I couldn’t miss her face

-

The furry goblin shrieked and snarled

His owner looked with only her eyes

At my silent door

Shielding her body with her own

-

“RAAAAAAAAWR,” I shrieked

She jumped back and slammed the door

Buzzing like a fly

-

I pulled my mask over my nose

to hide my face from myself

Pressing through the thin veil with my fingernail

Feeling for the creases of those smug, upturned corners

-

Her dog went ballistic for the next hour

While she filled the hall with curry spices

Booming laughter on the phone.

I could feel her breathing through our shared wall

The Desperate Housewives theme rumbling against my palm

How warm she felt

How full

I leaned in closer

Heard a spoonful of curry slide into her stomach

Listened as it moaned and curdled through her tract

Her back must be pressed square against the couch

So many sounds. Too many.

-

That’s why I must teach her a lesson

Surely, you must understand

Too many warnings not heeded.

I picked up my simple silver Motorola and made the call

“Hi, yes, I’d like to make a noise complaint.”