Imagine if you will an empty room,
a bunch of chairs, a podium, and me,
an audience of one. The poet reads.
I listen but I do not understand
a single word. I wish there was a crowd
so I could close my eyes. I cannot sleep
when there is only me. I cannot leave
or watch the other people in the room.
There are no other people in the room.
He’s reading in a monotone. He drones.
White noise is all I hear. Another one
or a continuation of the last?
I really try to listen but the words
the words, the words, the words, the words, the words
are all the same. I nod and smile. At last
the reading’s over. Do I clap or thank
the poet or just leave the way I would
if I was not an audience of one?