I'm right on time—how about you?

I hung emptiness on the wall; It turned out to be a mirror. Now I look into it And see you. My kettle went into politics; Now it boils only by decree. I say to it, "Have you lost your mind?" And it replies, "The people demand it." An accountant lives in my shoe; He counts my steps and sighs. I say, "Give it a rest, will you?" And he says, "You're bankrupt, brother." I bought a ticket to nowhere, But the clerk said, "It's already taken." I ask, "By whom?" And he says, "By you. Last Tuesday." A cactus grew on my palm; It pricks me when I dream. I say, "Stop it," And it says, "That's your conscience." My fridge joined a monastery; Now it fasts and keeps silent. I say, "Come back, I'm hungry," And it says, "Be patient; this is humility." I lost my reflection in the subway; It rode off without me. I shout, "Wait!" And it says, "You aren't me—leave me alone."