Interviews with Empty Rooms

That’s just madness for you-

a malady-met magic trick,
small flip of
the switch binding

sensory
information to its
appropriate forms of
mitigation before
greater minds
rip it from
the wall in front of

your eyes.

Fluorescent tubes once
ran congruent with
illumination;

now they
snap, crackle
and fight out of
self-serving
truths;

they’ll never be
free of
lighting
white
windowless room, table
and two chairs
in the corner

eight by ten
foot proof you don’t
even need a broom closet
to contain your
pocket change
thoughts this world can

be rehabilitated and
restore order
before the
clock runs out.

I don’t require
empirical data or
anecdotes to know
the walls are
closing in.

(Already have
the dark and
all my doubts.)

I’m so
versed in being crushed,
there’s almost nothing
left to
squish.

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2 thoughts on “Interviews with Empty Rooms

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