Thought on a Wednesday Evening in January
This is another poem inspired by the lonely misery of living in Vancouver in the early 90s.
The city is full of people and I don’t know any of them
I wonder if any of them know each other
Or does anybody know anybody at all?
The ceaseless rain clouds the bay and brings down my brain
The traffic flows; an endless river of steel, glass and plastic
As the poplulation rush toward their safe little individual boxes
In the concrete towers that clutter the landscape
Like so many blades of grass emerging from the floor
Of a sodden field that once was dense forest full of life
And in those boxes, high in the sky, what goes on, I wonder
Solitary people switching on the sox o’clock news
Quiz shows, gossip programmes, sickly soaps and dramas
The window to the outside world has no curtains
And cannot be opened; only switched on and off at will
Is somebody planning a murder while another plans how to get rich?
While still two more souls make love in a desperate bid to beat loneliness
And merge two souls together in a sweaty, frustrated, pounding act
Of pumping grinding exercise
That results in a few seconds of climactic bliss
Before the moment has passed
And surely they must part to light a cigarette
Then contemplate how good they were
Or the loneliness that still lies within
Unbeaten and unable to be ignored
By such a shallow and half-hearted attempt at perfect union
That all humanity strives for
Where are we without others?
Lost in fear, loneliness, longing
What have we if we only have ourselves?
We’d love somebody to call on us and brighten a bleak moment
To reassure us; though we would act so self-assured from the start
To agree with us and make us viable; worthwhile in what we think and feel
We know we’re ok, we know where it’s at, and all of that
But we crave assurance from somebody, anybody
That we’re not going insane.