They’re fighting again -
disrespect and indifference woven into their raised voices,
fury and famish lighting their four eyes, their two and two.
There is no sanctuary that exists between them now,
(if ever there was one to begin with):
no secret place of comfort, of consistency,
of continuity, of care.
They are, each, alone in their own world, absent a haven,
firing rockets into a foreign land.
How is it possible that they lay down together each night
and not understand that human need rests between them?
Did they really think another dog, another cat, some fish,
a new car, a new baby, new floors, a new day
an apology, a distraction, a vacation,
a picnic, a party, a problem to solve
a discussion, a diet, a debt
a history, a promise, a moment
a long drive, a shortcut, a wide berth
a decision, or simple denial
might squeeze the thing out?
~
They’re fighting again –
Again, again
Again.
~
Damn fools.
.
Christine Austin Cole
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/next-door/
