It isn’t easy living next door to culture
to sporadic exotic chatter
the gamut of emotion
resonating in the membranes of walls
the invasive smell of evening spices
seeping into my dried-out Velveeta kitchen
it’s not easy overhearing the ritual cries for
momma
the protests
the shrill devilish outbursts
rhapsodizing next door
adjacent to my cultural sarcophagus
of basic cable
of wide-band width repression
of eternal waiting for consumption
to run its course
it’s not easy living next door
to the non linear force of life
I guard all my agendas
I watch the clock
measure my protein
and never never knock on culture’s door.