PITY PITHY APATHY.

Do you know what’s across the road?
Or how big the houses are in your street?
Or the next one over?
Or why there are ten more men than there
Should be living two doors down,
And where they make their work?

Do you care what the place by the river takes?
Or how many one tonne bags it stores,
And further more what’s in them?
Or why their ingredients shared with some others
And heated up just so can do more
Than modify?

Do you know who that man in the sun tanned skin is?
Or what language he appears to be speaking
In the middle of the road?
Or why he barely leaves his home during the day?
And only ever does so at night to move his car
From one corner house to another.

Do you share the concern of the national board
Who seem certain that some of these questions
Are important, regardless of their answers.
Or why it might be more important to be a little bit curious,
Regardless of how many cats have disappeared,
Or whether or not knowing thy neighbour is a sin?

Do you feel the earth falling beneath your breast?
And see the sun rising in the middle of the night,
And smell that top soil stink in your front room.
Do you know why the place across the road is not there
Anymore? And neither is the road or across or your front
Door or your heart’s small space, do you..?