The Neighbors Poem by Raj Dronamraju

I can hear the neighbors watering their lawn at 6: 30 in the morning and I am already up

I can hear the neighbors fighting in the evening, the sound of dishes colliding, discord is a familiar lullaby

The neighbors and other people you know from outside
Are like pomegranates with a myriad of seeds inside
Seethe like infection when the germs have gotten in

I saw the neighbors taking in their mail
Stoop shouldered and slow
Their kids are not visiting them this week

I saw the neighbors and the bathrobe has become a legitimate garment for outside wear

The neighbors are not you nor are they important to you
They are the cheap entertainment for and from non-human human beings
In a time when humanity has erected further boundaries between its multitude of selves