The Absence of Silence

I In the solitary hours my ears play tricks on me. Call this a confession if you will. I hear things that I don't want to, People talking indescriptively, Electronic tones and beeps. There are no voices in my head Except my own, The occasional lyrics of a catchy song, And the imagined calling Of my name in public places. And I wonder at the chance That I am not alone in this, That others hear the things not there, The mischief of pixies that dance in the ear. II Dress quickly! Your lover leaves to errand Promptly upon awakening to the late morning. You must flee with him So that the house remains in stabbing silence. It is not so complete though When capsuling the off rhythm ping Of the radiators, the cracks of old walls When the wind should dare to test them. The refrigerator and the toilet Take turns refreshing themselves, But those ambiances only serve to exclaim The sinister silence that reigns over all else.