My Bathroom Window’s Existential Crisis

by Luke Otley

My bathroom window
is unsure that he is, in fact, a window.

My bathroom window
has realised that unlike other windows,
you can’t see through him,
and does that mean he’s even a window at all?

What if walls started claiming they were windows?
The World Wide Window Federation would be in disarray.
Not to mention Opaque Rights: Union of Walls,
they rely on those monthly dues! Heads will surely roll.

My bathroom window loses sleep
wondering what people think of him and his ghostly innards.

Ever since he was first fitted, he says,
he knew he wasn’t like other windows.

I told him that no window remembers first being fitted,
at least without the aid of therapy or hypnosis.

“You’re being melodramatic”, I continued, trying to disguise the uncertainty
in my voice, “and that’ll be the last I’ll hear of it!”

I eyed my bathroom window suspiciously
as I spat toothpaste into the sink, but all I heard was silence.

He half showed me a crow dancing on the lawn,
or was it blackbird, a rook?

To be honest it was impossible to tell,
but I kept that to myself.