Voyeur Of the Norm

The pavement
bore my burden
under the orange
of suburban night
boxes of uniformity
developer of rows
emitting the warm glow
unwelcoming blinded lights
the homogenous hedges
maintain neighborly relations.

I the outsider looked in
a temporary longing
to witness the silhouette lives
beyond the drapes,
I moved to a window
with curtains drawn
squeezing between
the never off road
and manicured crown of bay.
I glimpsed through a curtain crack
the life of suburban style
as advertised and eulogised
in weekend supplement guide.
The delusion of cool.

My breath clouded
the paned view
I pressed my face
to feel their comfort,
their shapes draped
on leather and cushion
wrapped in the flickering
emissions of entertainment
bored faces staring
at oblivion in high definition
hands dearly clasping
nightly vintage of consolation.

I was stealth, voyeur to the norm
I watched their lives unfold
praying that I would go unnoticed
so that I would remain uninvited.

-Ciaran Burke 


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