M.P. Powers

happy ending

my next-door neighbor 
lena wears winter clothes in summer 
and does tai chi in the Spielplatz 
and burns cinnamon incense 
and plays the handpan. 

I don’t think she has a job 
but she does drumming 
lessons sometimes and sometimes
she gives full body massages in her flat. 

her massage business is not advertised, 
but shows up with a little arrow on Google maps 
and sometimes I see her clients in the hall.

they are usually men, 
workingclass men, old, tired; 
they hobble 
into her apartment, 
I hear a little noise, some moans, 
the handpan. 

the noise is clearest 
from my writing desk
and it’s strange to think about 
as I’m sitting there 
lost in some poem: on the other side 
of the wall, not more than ten feet away, 
lena’s got some potbellied old german 
pipefitter sprawled out nude on a table
as she drains 
the paste out of him.