People are Lonely Places People are Lonely Places; single trees on peaks. They’re widowed Grecian urns in stores that sell antiques. They’re found in barren taverns pond’ring over beer. But Tragic isn’t who; no- it’s where- it’s there. It’s here. You notice it at diners in waitress’ ‘Goodnights’. But sadder than the patrons are broken neon lights. I’ve walked on distant beaches- on every dancing dune- I’ve heard the din of nothing on mountains of the moon. I may yet reach the stars, and scale the clines of Hell. I still could outlast Death— —defy what Fate compel. I’ll swallow up the ocean! I’ll turn the day to night! I’ll topple all convention of what is wrong and right! I’ll call down God from Heaven; from Heaven He’ll descend. I’ll make what’s dead, alive, and all that’s real, pretend. But- no matter what I traverse. Regardless, what I do. We’ll still be lonely places. We’re single, me and you: “You’ll never know my motives;” (At least, that is, for sure.) We’ll say what we are feeling, yet soul remains obscure. And though these Lonely Places betray exegesis, in my mind they’ll abide— Derelict—remiss. I’ll never see the moors that Emily proclaimed. I’m trapped in worlds of words— a Jungle left untamed. I’ll touch you but I’ll miss you; you might profess your Love, but, I’m trapped in Lonely Places; I’m right below Above. To each his Lonely Place in which he’ll long reside; gratuity of Hell to make his beauty pied. I am I am I— —and you are you are you; we’ll both keep wond’ring why what’s True’s not true’s not True. You are caught in your eyes; I am trapped in mine. I’ll never see the world but as the Fates consign. Moons and Suns I’ll labor to span this ‘stending cleft, but with my sure departure my place will stay Bereft.
We in the fullness lose ourselves beyond points and parts, melting into these god-puddles like ecstatic lounging lovers of simple peace; first embrace of a new work, more of a gentle brush than a seal.
