No, not really. You
do not, in fact,
have any real desire
to know the details.
Suffice it to pleasantly nod,
acknowledge, to exchange
those courtesies,
the quotidian and
quite necessary
civil pleasantries
between neighbours.
Give full doubt to the
meagre benefit your curiosity
might gain by knowledge
of your neighbour's
personal concerns. Be glad
to be spared intimate
understanding of the
little dramas,
the unhappiness of
those happy families.
Be content with the desperation
of your own.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Closed Doors
Labels:
Poetry
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