Feel unique in roiling solitude? Oh, you are not alone
though you may feel fallen, snow up your nose. Join
with others in your dank reclusion.
How do you find something worth saying?
How do you find desire to find desire
to find something worth saying?
And yes. That is where you might be: twice —
or is it thrice — removed in a receding
mirror of acedia. Finding a way to
find a way to want to find a way back in
to conversation. This is what negative numbers
(a negative soul) feel like: You want to want to want ...
If you go back far enough — lateral excavation —
will you hit bone? So many converging lines yakking
to themselves over a haywire switchboard
you used to find out who you were through
cookie crumbs tossed down your own path.
Now that you have no crumbs, don’t
even have pockets to turn out—only the memory
of such acts, such things. How weary, stale, and
profligate it seems to be to plasticize these
lines. You’re in a hamless state of mind.
Now get out and talk to anyone your age: Like you
they’ve all got Death studded on the tongue, which
livelies up the talk they walk.
—Poetry, December 2012
Sharon Dolin (www.sharondolin.com) is the author of five books of poetry, most recently Whirlwind (2012) and Burn and Dodge (2008), both published by the University of Pittsburgh Press.