Prisoner of Loneliness
Loneliness in my heart
Billi Holliday in my soul
I make myself a hot brandy
Toast the ghosts of the past
Open the window
let a fly out
One prisoner here
is enough.
from Big Hammer No. 8 which is available by clicking here…
Even when Death inhabits a poem, he does not own it. He is a squatter. In fact, Death owns nothing. – Todd Moore
Loneliness in my heart
Billi Holliday in my soul
I make myself a hot brandy
Toast the ghosts of the past
Open the window
let a fly out
One prisoner here
is enough.
good poem/observation
i let out, turn free all the bugs when i can – keep a special plastic cup and lid nearby to capture for a moment spiders, scorpions, ants, flys, little brown i don’t know whats, moths when i can catch them – they’re hard to make fly out the door. I turn them loose immediately outside. i hope they all think they are being freed. i often need to be a prisoner of my own lonliness and don’t want out. i find it an invasion of my privacy to be expected to go anywhere, wanting everyone to leave me alone. except my dog – i tell her it’s me and you – just the two of us.