Robert Auld

Neighbours

I've been imagining being watched, imagining
with my body. Increasingly I feel
I'm performing for my neighbors
through their windows. They have parties.
The version of me I want them to see
I project through the walls,
walk the width of the room
like a runway, a model, a man
on the moon. The parties are always over
too soon. I toast them as they go,
my neighbors, those strangers,
from my solitude,
as if the moment is remarkable,
as if they imagine I am watching, too.