The neighbour from hell

 

Above the ceiling I hear footsteps

Pounding floorboards like a demented animal

Pacing from one room to another

Doors slamming, I hope he falls.

 

This is the second week in a row

Where I have been woken

As if by gun shoot, at the display of discourtesy

From this new neighbor

Whom I am supposed love

 

I see him every morning, wondering when he sleeps

Wishing I was above him

So I could slam doors clean off their hinges

And turn the volume up on the washing machine

As it spins with ferocity at 1800 rpm.

His chav attire and rust bucket of a car

Belches out diesel, mixed with weed smoke

Pollutes the morning air.

 

I’m a Christian but love has grown cold

Like cloudless night air I shake with rage.

He asks where I’m going

And If a lift I’d like to share?

 

Seated in his bucket seat, covered with a leopard skin rug

He eyes me from beneath his lowered brimmed hat

And smirks the smirk of a fully fed cat.

He stalks me with his eyes.

Fiddles with the rear view mirror,

 

The council shouldn't’t have let him in.

 

His window wound down, I hear music of lost youth

Drown out the morning birds

This unkempt, weed smoking lout

Has arrived and will stay

No more peaceful nights

To call my own

 

I’m brimming with contempt

As I share my frustration

With the God above.

As I walk on my way to work

And pray he meets his maker

Before my head hits the pillow tonight

Woken with the thud.