for too long, it's even worse
to be disturbed.
There you were:
fathoms deep
in your mind palace,
set before
a perceptual
feast just for one
and raising
a chalice to the lack
of observation
when along comes
some beggar, knocking
desperate at your door,
as if it were
conceivable—let alone
simple—to share
one's isolation. As if
the desolate depths
of pure loneliness
could be plumbed
and abated by a little
conversation.
