Neubooterdammerung, 16: Tim Turnbull

Bark​ Bark ​Bark

All night it goes, plaintive,
agitated, anxious, in the next
street, in the next valley, in
the next town; and irregular:
sometimes it stops for a few
moments and you think, at
last, sleep, then it starts up
again, more insistent, more
urgent than before, so you
go on holiday, or to visit
friends in the countryside,
or on a weekend city break
and stare at the bedroom
ceiling trying not to hear.

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