The Music of Noise

I’m at my best

At home.

Having a rest

While alone.

With much time to mull and think

While having-in-hand a cool drink.

Untroubled by troubling troubles in any way

And as such, I expect to usurp the entire day.

But, somehow it is then, when

Reality’s noises overtake again.

The telephone rings.

The doorbell pings.

The outsider is seeking to achieve an intrusive-in.

To make his sale’s pitch and achieve a sale’s win.

At the door is a friendly and very talkative, and borrowing, neighbour

To whom I 've lent more eggs than he has bought at the grocery store.

My silence has been recouped, and I am once again alone.

I have disabled the doorbell and unplugged the telephone.

I am fully at peace and free to fall asleep and I do so, like a charm

Only to be awakened by this week’s second, noisy, false-fire alarm.

Ergo, even if I desire to, and do live in isolation,

Noise will always be the music of my habitation.