It continued

It continued
Through most of the night

The feeling of oblique aloneness
Only triggered by extreme bodily pain
For which there is no immediate cure
Only the awaiting of its passing
Which becomes all past

I was resigned to watching
From across the street
A neighbour’s television
And subsequently watching him
Sitting in his blue armchair
And holding tightly onto his remote

Above him was a game of poker
Even higher (so high I could not see,
And regretfully)
A flock of women all gathered together
And beautiful
And a hot wind even blowing
Against their tanned skin
And below
The lights were turned on
In a cascade
I followed it with my gaze
Hoping for a terrifying blue peace
Only to meet the unlit ground

I wondered how my neighbour’s hair had become so grey
And he so bald

I hoped his sunken image
Would never become
That of my own

And that in a parallel sense
I would not be struck by lightning
That would cure my loneliness
And my momentary intense
Hatred for everyone
Who was and wasn’t with me


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