In the garden next door the dog is barking a marathon
at the marathon-barking dog in the garden
after that. It’s enough to make me for wish a plague
on all dogs. And in the next room, my flatmate,
with too much time on his hands, has had his hands
on his double bass for over an hour. Almost as long
as the kids in the flat upstairs have been playing
trampoline on my ceiling. To complete this soundscape,
a song is playing over and over on the radio
in my head. It’s Lennon, from his
Plastic Ono days,
and I like that album, but you know this kind of radio,
it plays the chorus on repeat, or even just one line—
or sometimes, as it’s doing today, a single word:
I-e-i-solation
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If you're looking for an ear-worm, here's the song.