Walls

WALLS

Through the walls

my neighbours

make love.

Her cries

cling

like the trail of snails

upon the kitchen floor,

clear, transparent,

hard to brush off,

as I lie

empty in the night.

This poem was first published in Joe Soap's Canoe and was included in the Grandchildren of Albion anthology. It was performed on BBC Radio 4 for which I received a cheque for less than £10. I didn't cash it, but kept it as a souvenir to show my grandchildren.