WHY IS IT SITTING LONELY ALONE?

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PAST POMES

Why is it sitting lonely alone in a room

     I first discover

        that I am not alone.


          that countless others

     exhausted by night; defrocked by light

           have sworn and swear

        that the fates have it in for them.

      They scream of betrayal

            the husband/wife left them

                for eternal foliage in the moonlight

                  hidden behind stars of oblivion.


Overturned dreams railroaded into despair

          by unholy men who laugh

                in evening showers; denounce

      the setting sun; curse April showers.


No, I am not alone in my solitude

     schizophrenic other selves insinuate

   into the outer sphere of my awareness;

        beware the werewolves of Rio Grande

    set up shop hallucinating

         of the future of Zodiac arrests

and the visions of prosperity

      that deny me entry

           into the realms of my destiny.


I file suit attorney frostbitten

      by the howling winds of winter

   burying the crumbling Autumn 

           leaves under snow.

ill feelings washed ashore buried


huddling in 30th Street Station

       glaring down Mickie Dees

    preferring hunger to plastic

sipping coffee waiting waiting

watching blonde brunette girls chit chat

        bout chitchatting bout chitchatting

                      lusting thinking

resisting the urge to speak scream

         listening seeing

    not worrying about the hour

           or getting a good night's sleep.


I am not alone and to this day

       I feel the presence of 

          angels and dolphins who

swim to me in lucid Ocean waters

     breaking waves of communion

over my smoldering faith--I accept.


Conglomerations of desperate figures

join me to fill in empty spaces

in the tears I carry within my soul.


Imagination attempting freedom

     but creation rebelling

   demanding freedom, I let them go

free to roam the skies

      leave me alone

          to my own device

             tho not really alone.


I am not alone on this ragged planet

        surrounded by elements; creatures

    spirits that whistle to me

        singing a song foreign to my ears.


I think therefore others are

        so I am not alone

     though I wished it to a genie once

          when I felt overcrowded

              only to feel guilty later.


     Still it is great

to be, occasionally set apart

       to the restoration of my mind


where I travel freely the heavens

     expecting the cosmos to close in

on me and forever

shatter the somber despair of proportionate

                    defeat. . .


No, I am not alone. . .


10-16-1988

 

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