Saturday, February 6, 2016

How Terrible Loneliness Is

By Joseph Cunningham

To Anthony Bailleres: you asked me to write about this, so I did.

I am in a cave, a dark, cold crevasse,
In the earth, ‘tween sky and sea. 
I cannot recall, the cause of it all 
For the sniveling life of me.

Long since I’ve stopped wond’ring 
From where the dim light was coming; 
Long ago I stopped writing to me. 

For all I can see, 
There’s one task left for me:
The deep spot – I’ve not dared it yet. 
Today I will see.

Gently now, I descend the unknown. 
It is colder and blacker; far darker. I moan. 
I fear there is someone; I fear there is no one.

I run my fingers down the stone. 
The far corner; I will feel the end now.

“There is no one in here but me!” I cry. 
There is no one here but me. 

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