The one who had been whispering
All along in this empty theater
And whose voice I just heard—
Or imagined I did
Distracted as I was by my own thoughts.
God have mercy on my poor soul
Was to be my line,
Which I couldn’t bring myself to say
With the shivers going up my spine
Like white mice.
And when I finally did get around to,
There was no response,
A clap, someone chuckling briefly
Is all I had hoped for
And not this great sweep of nothing.