just outside my window...

my perspective, except it's generally darker...

Tomorrow is Wednesday, which means I will be awoken (before my alarm) by the trash truck. But that truck is definitely not the only thing I hear (or smell, really) that strikes me as especially different than the noises I've heard for the last 22 years through my bedroom window...

Just Outside My Window... by Katy Capers
The drool is on my pillow, as a faint noise tickles my ear,
The dumpster man is digging for deserted cans of beer.
He'll toss them in his pushcart and away he'll go to find
Another trash site of treasures...so my teeth I'll no longer grind.

I slip back to my dream state, but just as I'm saved from the tower
I awake to the big-loud-tow-truck man who searches the lot every hour.
This time he finds no one who offends him, so he'll soon be on his way
For noisy and long are the rendezvous when he catches one who must pay.

Soon giggling and high-heel "clomps" will seep through the window frame
As ladies from next door parade home in their march of shame.

And that couple from two nights ago, I hope they can survive that fight--

He had great lungs and witty slurs, why I'm sure he's her Mr. Right!

Alas six a.m. comes too soon, that's when car-pool horns begin to blare

But I politely pull the pillow over my head as my nostrils start to flare.

And the four-story deck next door, why it's coming along and I'm thrilled (from afar)
I should know I've counted all 2,481 nails drilled (so far)!

But please don't take this silly poem as a complaint, a plea or whine,
I've really gotten quite use to it all, I promise that I am just fine.
It's really Boston's fault, you see, that I hear every whip/bang/zip/clap/whir,
I've had to keep the window cracked...because they refuse to use air conditioners :)

say cheese,
katy