Paranoia Poem by Claudia Krizay

When the rain falls hard, I see, I see,
Not too far before my eyes
Further behind me
Everyone is talking; I have disappeared
As the elevator doors slide shut,
Silently, unobtrusively, and
Without justifiable warning
Above the sound of the percussion of the spattering deluge
As tap dancers upon a tin roof,
Or before me
I witness through the pouring rain
Appearing as some corrugated transparency
Round shouldered, hunchbacked septuagenarians
Analyzing my thoughts, as written behind my eyes,
Some sort of literature,
Perhaps a mystery novel
Indecipherable?
Through the drumming of the raindrops’ symphony
I can still hear them talking,
As I walk around the corner, and hardly passed the second door
In the corridor,
Out of their line of vision, to them
I am no longer present- yet- They are still talking,
Their conniving expressions, I regard.
In all of this moment of disharmony
this moment of cacophony, arrested:
The downpour has suddenly ceased.
For just a split second, quiet rules.
I could be the last person alive on this planet.
My thoughts are contained inside of a safe,
Locked and keyed, A calm before the storm,
The pulsation of the heavy rain has resumed,
Tap dancers upon a tin roof,
Everybody is talking again,
They have taken the key, and
Unlocked that box, inside of which is that mystery novel.
Nosy old women donning rain bonnets
In shelter from the storm
Huddle around to read.
But I take no heed, as I laugh, much less aloud for
In my fondest dreams, I am the last person alive on this planet…