well-couched and well-protected

Always the onlooker, always outside,

borrowing laughs and sudden gestures,

the droop of sadness.

People were his food, and he ate them up hungrily.

His appetites were significant, but he was never quite complete.

Neither was his suitcase.

He thought sleep was a waste of time, and if he slept

he might miss something.

He prowled through the nights like a hunter.

He’d borrow papers,

see what was playing on Forty-second Street and

he’d go to three features to stretch out the night.

Sometimes, he’d register at a small hotel that was

left behind when glamour moved out of town,

but he found a second home, Jerry’s Bar,

where he was always welcome.

His mind went away and hid somewhere.

Pounded the pavement looking for work and

he wrote letters home.

Why do I do these things, he wondered.

And he really didn’t know.

Shy and sensitive about people getting too close too him.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

loneliness is so awful....and for some, the busier they try to stay, the lonelier they become.
They feel the need to matter and just don't seem to get there, in their own minds and hearts.
j.