Drama with the Neighbor
Hilary King
has spoiled my morning,
those hours I poured
into a cup for sipping
by the window of the day.
Now there will need to be
at least one long phone call
autopsying the details.
Then there will need to be an hour
of eating mixed with an hour of reading
in which nothing better than bland
is ingested, until at last
the clock’s anxious fingers start their scratch.
I will get up. I will stare at the backyard
for a long time until I see
what I can get done before lunch.
Listen to Hilary read the poem here:
has spoiled my morning,
those hours I poured
into a cup for sipping
by the window of the day.
Now there will need to be
at least one long phone call
autopsying the details.
Then there will need to be an hour
of eating mixed with an hour of reading
in which nothing better than bland
is ingested, until at last
the clock’s anxious fingers start their scratch.
I will get up. I will stare at the backyard
for a long time until I see
what I can get done before lunch.
Listen to Hilary read the poem here:
About the author
Hilary King lives and writes in Atlanta, Georgia. Her poems have been published in PANK, Gertrude, Blue Fifth Review, Vinyl Poetry, and other publications. She is learning to let the dishes sit.