If you go through that door
you will enter a room
already full
to the ceiling
that somehow
never stops filling,
a mouth
that won’t spit, that only swallows.
That other door
in the far wall
opens
on an empty room.
I have seen people
going in there all day,
no one has come out.
The room is small and
there’s no question about it:
it is empty. I wouldn’t
go in there. You
will not come out.
I don’t know
where those people went
and neither do you.
Do you want to risk
vanishing? Perhaps
it’s better on the far side
of Whatever.
As for me — I stand
between these rooms.
I get to choose,
to comment, to advise;
my advice
does no good to others
as far as I can tell
and for myself
I will not choose. Why?
Go into the stuffed room
and try to breathe. Go into
the empty room and
try to exist, or at least be seen,
then tell me why
I need to decide.
While you stammer
I’ll try and come up
with a satisfactory name
for the room we’re in,
or maybe I will do
no such thing. Maybe
I’ll just keep its name
to myself. Keep it safe
from everyone who insists
on choosing one door or the other.
