Across the Way - the Sequel

Another day and the dishes have piled up yet again So back I end up in front of the window I do not glance up, but concentrate On the dull, dirtied objects before me I do not hear the voices from yesterday I still wallow in the grime of gray I smile in malcontent As I lather the dishes with soap Against my will, I look up To see a lone, fat man opening a refrigerator He is shirtless, bulgy, and he looks pregnant My first supposition is to laugh But I only look back down at the dishes Not wanting to stare at the fat man Not wanting to think he looks pregnant For sure not wanting him to be my neighbor Across the way Against my will again, I look up The fat, pregnant man is gone I see ornaments on the refrigerator Some pictures, some magnets Family; not so different from my life But yet, there is a transparent fancy of mystery A flashy rage of difference in the silence Oh, so quiet The blazing sun sprays its light upon the hour Not only are my hands wet from the soapy water The deafening tone of quietude Revels in me a mixture of loneliness and physical heat A burning desire for something not seen A desire for utter disgust of my newly found neighbors But I find myself not disgusted at all Until I look up again and see a fully naked man at the window Across the way