Every night, we couldn’t sleep—
Our upstairs neighbors had to keep 
Dropping something down the hall— 
A barbell or a bowling ball, 

And from the window by the bed—
Scaling sharply in my head— 
The alley cats expended breath 
In arias of love and death. 

Dawn again, across the street, 
Jackhammers began to beat 
Like hangovers, and you would frown— 
That well-built house, why tear it down?

Noon, the radiator grill 
Groaned, gave off a lesser chill 
So that we could take off our coats. 
The pipes coughed to clear their throats. 

Our nerves were frayed like ravelled sleeves, 
We cherished each our minor griefs 
To keep them warm until the night, 
When it was time again to fight; 

But we were young, did not need much 
To make us laugh instead, and touch, 
And could not hear ourselves above 
The arias of death and love.