My neighbours fight all night
Then fuck. I lack sleep
But count myself fortunate to be in London.
No fighter jets are circling my home,
Only the occasional plane making for Heathrow.
"Oh god, oh god" I hear her cries
As she approaches another early morning orgasm.
And so I imagine some terrified woman in Tripoli,
Uttering the same words as she braves a peek
At the fires lapping up her street,
Once they're done
There will be silence.
If you have any comments on this poem, Hassan Abdulrazzak would be pleased to