An Impossibility

Tonight


I want to reject the whir

Of the fan that sits on the floor.


I'd be grateful if the creaks

Living in the ceiling would suffocate.


I want to hear an absence of

The usual comforts and distractions.


Tonight I want nothing,


An impossibility—there's always


Something


And even if there was nothing at all,

I'd be tossed into everything


By a necessary alarm.


That is something too.