“ᵧddo˩”

I only know the place I am
and what it is called
because somewhere,
someone taught me
how to read backwards.
The only problem is
that I am given no clue
about where I am going,
after passing a foggy glass door
with gray mirror letters.
I am frightened and I pray
my name is never called
but it seems the place I am in,
that everyone is called to step in
but nobody ever walks back out.
Maybe, I think, there is a separate exit
and that it makes perfect sense
that one should not come back out
the way they go in. But still, I am scared
and I think perhaps I should begin reading
some of the literature that is stacked
all around me. But most are written
more backwards than the label on the door.
So I put my earphones in and try to drown out
my neighbors who can’t seem to sit still,
repeating all the paperback gibberish
as if doing so will change their destination.
But there is only one door here
and like I say,
nobody comes back out
and it is perfectly quiet in there.
Perfectly still—
and I think no matter what
I will like it better than this noisy hall.
I have been here so long, I cannot remember
how it even came to be that I am here.
So yes, I am eager for my name to be called.
Do not make the mistake
of missing me when I am gone.
I am certain to be happy;
No matter what you have been reading,
I am certain I am.

narrative poem written on 09-27-2010 by: on mattkane.com
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