Robert M. Simmons
from Added Entries (Poems 1991- )
Private Lives in Public Places
Those among us
of more humble means,
myself included,
live their lives
in small homes
crowded together on tiny lots
with minimal privacy
and an ambiance
controlled by the whim of any jackass
with a do-rag on his head
who decides to clean his driveway
with a leaf blower
sounding like a 747
taking off from Logan Airport,
or to switch on a stereo system
more than adequate
to fill the needs of Fenway Park,
or to tear up the street
on a Harley Davidson
loud enough to be heard
in Plymouth and Bristol counties
simultaneously.
Along with suffering
such inconveniences
much of what these people do
in their private lives
becomes an inadvertent performance
on a public stage.
Something as ordinary
as washing the family SUV
or taking out the garbage
can illicit
commentary, critiques and even ridicule
from any neighbor
who might be driving past
on his way to the convenience store
for another fix
of cigarettes and lottery tickets,
and the object of this rhetoric
uttered from the pits
is expected to be good-natured about it.
How good-natured
would the denizens of the grand estates
we see in Newport or the Hamptons be
if every time they crossed their thresholds
for a stroll outdoors,
hands in pockets, deep in thought,
they were accosted by some simple-minded neighbor
and coerced into a conversation
about the Academy Awards
or perhaps the Red Sox Nation?
Try trimming the edges
when someone's Dodge Ram four-by-four
is parked on your sidewalk.
A backyard barbecue
or a dip in the above ground pool
is usually observed
by neighbors pruning their shrubs
or power-washing their vinyl siding.
An emotional farewell
to visiting family
performed at curbside
will provide riveting drama
for a neighbor mowing his lawn
in a dirty sweat suit
or walking his basset hound
wearing a Patriots jacket.
When you settle in
for a relaxing summer evening on the deck
your tiki torches will be visible
up and down the street
and the neighbors will be able to smell
your citronella candles.
They will see the colored flicker
of your TV set
and know if it is large or small.
On summer evenings
with the windows open
they will even be able to hear it.
They will know what time you leave for work
and what time you return home.
On those rare occasions when tempers fly,
a domestic disagreement
or a row with the kids,
you must learn to lower the voice
or your family business
will be the talk of the town,
and those hapless enough
to cross over the boundaries of law
are likely to have their transgressions
witnessed by dozens
and recorded on videotape
ready for the media.
We wonder what goes on
in those large gated estates
we sometimes pass on Sunday drives
revealing hints of breathtaking architecture
reminiscent of Devonshire or Normandy,
partially concealed by exquisite landscaping,
buffered by ample acreage,
surrounded by walls and fences,
all resembling a Constable watercolor
hanging in the Museum of Fine Arts
with a Chopin Nocturne
playing gently in the background.
We wonder
but we can only speculate
regarding private lives lived in private,
and in all likelihood
whatever these individuals do
will never become the concern
of the local constabulary
to be splashed in graphic detail
on the evening news,
yet once in a while
despite the beauty and the taste,
despite the layers of protection,
something dark will surface
and we discover
who these people really are.
© 2006 by Robert M. Simmons
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Subjects: poems about, privacy, community life, ordinary people, lifestyles of the wealthy, poetry, poems
Private Lives in Public Places