glistening open mouths

the voices
all the voices
these same same voices
of my beautiful beloved children
scratching through the walls
bouncing round the house
i’m so tired of these little voices
stop talking to me
just
stop
talking
seriously
stop
i put a pizza in the oven
slip on a coat and mask
and go outside
it’s just getting dark
the evening air is crisp
not cold
it’s nice
i cross the street
there’s someone in an attic window
a single light
on their face
firing off
the last email
of the day
the window suddenly goes black
i see a darkened figure approach
from the next block
i go the other way
where i was once
a misanthrope
i’m now
a patriot
most of my neighbors
have cleared their walks
these corner lots
have it tough
right here’s a patch
that’s not been touched
the snow and slush and ice
have melted froze melted froze
melted froze
and all the passing boots
have left formations
of glistening open mouths,
with sharp jagged teeth
and smooth slick tongues
i almost take a spill
but catch myself
and wrench my neck
hazards flash
and i hang back
till the delivery person
crosses
and gets to their truck
we nod
i check my watch
pick up the pace
my phone buzzes
my leg
‘dad the oven just dinged do i shut it off’
‘no i’m right across the street i’ll take care of it’
i see her run to the door through the window
as i reach the top of our steps
‘did you have a nice walk daddy’
‘yes’
the house is warm
and smells like pizza
it’s good