That woman
stood at the window, waiting
for it to become too dark
to see outside.
The light from the bulb
in the microwave oven
gave her the heebee-jeebies.
The wattage
of such implements
is no indication
of their intrusiveness.
Only this:
They speak of danger.
She pulls the blinds,
moves her thoughts inward.
When the outside world
has been disconnected
she can move about more easily.
She is aware now
that each one of us is as distinct
as a species
and as individuals
as are dinosaurs and paramecia.
Nor are similarities of form
any presentiment, any promise
of togetherness. At times
the best that can be hoped for is isolation
One’s existence
should not be the concern
of anyone but one’s self, however bitter.
In any case that made her feel better.
If she could climb into the microwave,
if she could shut the door, and turn it on,
she could do it now without compunction.
She would sleep more easily.