The Emptiness of American Life by Rich Quatrone



i struggle with it daily, nightly.
the idiocy of it, the lies,
the lunacy, the fear in the people,
the anger. at times i feel
i walk among the living dead.
the only redemption is love.
the love of a lover, this most of all.
a partner, in soul, spirit and body.
this is the only salvation.
i do not have this at this time
in my life.
so the death all around me weighs
especially hard on me.
i try to stay close to my work.
to the poetry most of all.
i drift away, because i cannot
sit at this computer and write
24 hours a day. i must do
other things. and when i do other
things, especially outside this
small apartment, i am reminded
of how futile it all is, this
life among the rich and
distracted and illiterate.
a woman’s love immediately cures
all this. immediately saves my
heart and gives me pools of
tolerance and forgiveness
which dry up when left on their
own for too long.

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