Witching the World

Witching the World

Real loneliness is like a window

from wherein you cannot hear a thing.

My loneliness is the tracks

at a train crossing, a damnation

of gunfire and impact. In silence

my name: the instant at which the gods

finally forget to call. I keep thinking,

sing to yourself and survive. Expand

to infinity like a deaf man expands

his voice in a dream.