Outside, from where l now sit and type,
… day in and day out, from morn’ to night,
I hear all sorts …
Verbal carelessness and dour intercourse!
People clueless to the ears that hear ‘em,
Worrying not about their language nor lack of ahem!
The very nature of a stumblesome society l feel…
…. Caring for others not …
Just those who love the sounds of their pealing squeal!
…. And not about whom hears what!
It’s a continuous whirring of unwanted noise…
… but that’s life and the nature of the human convoy’s!
Their noise travels far and wide,
…. Through the length and depth,
Of the busy street on which l reside!
Up and down and around the angular breadth…
…. It matters not, l hear everything they utter,
From perfected speech to drunken stutter!
Twas not long back indeed did l hear the sound…
…of flapping flesh upon paned glass,
Made by the joyous behind of a rounded…
…. belle’s arse!
I kid you not as you know full well,
… everything happens in and on the street!
It’s life, no walking on eggshells!
Not here, not to those who bleat with more than their feet!
I hear often also, the deafening cries of defiant angst,
Thrust from the throats of tantrumming rebels,
Acting no better than mischievous children poked,
By tiring parents eager to test their own battle yells!
If not that, then l hear the slurring’s and shlurrings,
…. Of the drunken as they too spout like alien off-spring!
Here, inside the curtained goldfish bowl,
…. I hear secrets and confessions and the banal chatter,
Of those who are keen to extol…
…. The virtues of those who matter…
The most to them as they sink into deep conversations
With friends and family and other such worthy relations!
Don’t start me of the banging of car doors!
…. Bang, thump, thwomp, bang … always loud!
These are not simple carriages, but tanks readying for wars!
Let’s not forget either – the boy racers, with their well endowed …
Vee – HIC-les!
Their music beating and throbbing and pulsating …
… through my windows!
It can be a little irritating!
But that’s the very nature of street life..
… and the very nature of the human wildlife!
One has when living in a town..
… the peoples groaning and moaning,
And whining and complaining and giving it all the run down..
… their noise – their droning!
And yet …. I love to hear them, and it,
… their fears, worries and humdrum shit!
Because this is what life is all about,
… we learn from others through what they spout!
But it’s not all doom and gloom, for there are the times,
When l hear of their joys and tribulations,
… and l am able to pen their talk in rhymes,
Like now and celebrate their diverse communications!
That’s the beauty of street life..
…. The wonderful vibrancy of the human oral design!
© Rory Matier 2020