Friday, November 22nd, 2013...10:50 am

rich quatrone | the kind of poem that never gets published yet so many of us need

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THE KIND OF POEM THAT NEVER GETS PUBLISHED YET SO MANY OF US NEED

how alone am i?
so alone i talk to myself
regularly. everyday.
so alone when i look at
my bed late at night i don’t
want to get into it.
i eat my meals alone.
i watch tv alone.
i drive my car to the library
or the health food store
and return to be alone.
i have no energy to get work
done.
i admit, i need a partner.
i admit, i hate being
almost 67 years old
and alone.
so alone i am anxious
when i take my walks
alone in the morning.
so alone i often leave
dirty dishes till the next
morning.
so alone i look into the
bathroom mirror and
see a face that frightens me,
or is foreign to me, a face
of a much older man than
i ought to be.
so alone i live in the past.
my mind skips to past moments,
scenes, events, snippets of
conversation.
so alone i think of you constantly.
i see your bed with our
pictures over it.
i see my laundry on your
bed as i fold it.
i see your son’s laundry,
so often left in the dryer,
as i fold it.
i see your bathroom.
so alone i remember
the thursday afternoons
we made love on the sly.
i see the woman in her
floral summer dress waiting
on the bench outside the old
salon as she waits for me.
so alone i hear the owner
tell me when i meet you on
fridays not to keep you
out late because you
have to be in early.
so alone i remember
our friday nights
sharing pizzas and
a salad in bradley beach.
all of this is happening now.
not in the past.
now.
you say you were married
twenty years and this is supposed
to explain things.
i say i’m the same person
i was when you met me.
i say a person at our ages
should know whether or not
he or she can be with
this other person for life.
i knew it.
you didn’t.
so alone i have this conversation
in my head and i write
these repetitive poems.
did you write today
you asked, and so
yes i did.

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