That Each Of Us Is A Separate Species

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.