Do You Ever Wonder?

 

As you drive past houses,especially late at night,

Do you ever wonder?

 

With their curtains open wide,

Lights on inside,

I often wonder

what they're up to,

why or where they bought that glass clown ornament from,

with it's bejewelled colours

deeply set

inside thick cheap glass,

 

Was it bought from Blackpool in 1976?,

when they were the height of fashion,

plucked from a souvenir filled window?,

while the kiddies pestered mum and dad for fairground tickets! For ice cream,

for attention?....

I often wonder

 

Next door but one,frilly edged lamps in shades of pink,and blue,

line the windowsill's of the old folks home,

and jutting sarcastically out of the top,

are hideous energy saving bulbs,

which save the planet,supposedly

yet have all the charm of gonhorrea,

artex, sloppily done. on the ceilings,

has been applied .seemingly with bare hands,

into rough,thick seashell shapes that scream out for a fresh lick of magnolia,

A diy job?,or done as a job on the side for andy or carl?

to finance a weekend stag do in amsterdam?

I often wonder.

 

 

I notice question time's on in one living room

and the woman on the couch is slumped forward as though the sheer boredom of listening to

meaningless drivel has taken it's toll,

Either that, she's had enough of life,,or depression has set in,

and she's overdosed on prescription drugs

Is she

another casualty of a society that doesn't care?

By not stopping,

by driving on,have I just seen the end of her life?,

and will I see the young woman,

in photos in national papers,

headline,”24-year old trainee solicitor with everything to live for takes her own life!” No one knew!”,(except

me)

I often wonder

 

In another window,a young girl points in her boyfriends face

as she backs ,warily,away from him,

and he,marching towards her,

puffs out his chest

clenches his fist,

lover's tiff,

or domestic abuse?,

 

 

An old lady draws the curtains ,in the flat above the alleyway,

tears in her eyes,lost and alone,

and as she remembers frank her husband of fifty seven years,

she wonders if anythings worth living for anymore,

and considers drawing the curtains on life,

while the couple next door are turning off the lights,

and making their way to the bedroom,

ready for their nightly fuck?

Or about to make love for the first time in months?

I often wonder

 

Am I so sad myself to notice such things

Or am I simply bored with life?

Far too nosey?

Or verging on a peeping tom,

To imagine such goings on?

Not watching the road,

watching others instead,

I could easily crash headlong,

into the nearest lamp-post,

taking a cigarette smoking teenager with me as I go,

who was rushing home to explain why he was late back from shelby's.

Armed with chewy to hide his smoker's breath just before going in  the backway?

Sad or interested in others?

Seeking inspiration,

Or deriving sadistic satisfaction from the lives of strangers,

I wonder,

I often wonder