neighbor

blackberry brambles

they cover your yard

you invited me over

to come pick them

placed into a little woven basket

when I first moved in next door

and my sister dances in the yard

white dress, short brown hair

surrounded by a clean aura

and the pureness of childhood

yet when I see you standing

by your kitchen window

I know exactly what you think

of my sister

and of me

I see you

and your shiny new camera

recording her in the yard

I see the lens following me

from your big black truck

when I walk to university campus

I see the flash go off

a photograph in time

of me in my own home

cooking dinner in the kitchen

caught through the window pane

you’ll take that photo

and you’ll put it on a hard drive

oh how badly I wish

the police had checked your hard drive

the picture of a little girl

dancing in her own backyard

you enrage me

more than you scare me

I know you jerked off

to pictures of me

when I was a kid

but you know

that the cops don’t care