Strains of piano float down the hall
and theatre vocal rehearsals
—far harsher than the rock singers—
cutting and projecting
I know it’s a style
and possibly turned on and off at will.
She’s not really so shrill.
Still I wonder…
what does she sound like
screaming at her man when he’s done wrong.
Does he regret her?
snippets of conversation
and the humming of the Coke machine
traffic whirs and sirens outside
wet noises from the rainy street
and I sink deeper
into the sofa
waiting for my aching legs