The Neighbour’s Washing

Under freshly greyed skies 

The neighbour’s washing lines up

Like convicts facing the hangman

The rain may wash away sins

But it also removes the freshly laundered smell

Brenda’s blouse receives a dousing

I could take them down

But it seems intrusive

Like knocking on the door 

And asking if they’ve ever been 

Betrayed by someone they loved

It is well documented that 

Uninvitedly fingering the seat

Of someone else’s pants 

Is not ok.

Yes officer

It isn’t what it looks like

I was only sniffing them to see 

If they had lost their fabric softener aroma

And anyway it’s obscene

To display your drawers

For the world to see

Any old pervert could 

Be walking past

It’s a good job it was me

But now I’m caught

With my pants down

So to speak

But no it was their 

Pants I was taking down

And only out of community spirit

Now look at the mess I’m in

That’s the last time I do something nice

So please people take it from me

Come rain or shine

Do not touch the neighbours washing line