A Man Alone by Jody Lee
I am the man who is always alone.
I walk in the street.
I stay in my home.
I am the man who is always alone.
I walk in the street.
I stay in my home.
Is it any different drinking in the beauty of the land,
As it is to feeling heart-swell from just watching woman stand;
Or lean,
Sweet, brown, sticky moves the lazy legless beetle,
His tail wisps to nothing as its licked by cylindrical tongue;
The dull mirrored surface tilts and ushers his short pathway,
Dark, black the night
that falls upon these mountain peaks,
black cloud on granite and slate
One pair of brown slippers
beneath the window of an empty room.
Fresh freedom fought for, falls,
assumed, the air we breathe,
abused, so endangered,
Is our perception of nature –
the world in which we live –
a gateway into another Reality,
Squashed carcases scattered on the highway
provides welcome carrion to scavenge
nothing is wasted
The hardest thing was deleting
your number from my telephone.
Seeming ultimate rejection