A Magnificent Loneliness
A magnificent loneliness has opened
its soft, gray legs to me
& I, in the morning & in the swanny dark,
have entered it
like a particle of illness
into a lion’s most readily available
Now the river changes sides, it carries
a carrying song.
When I asked what I wanted if I wanted it
what I wanted wanted
to change the subject. I broke apart
into a disarray of roses,
which sounds nicer than it is, it is
terminal & exhausting,
like God, who appeared when we were not paying
attention. Look, there God is,
right at the beginning, the loneliness
which is made beautiful by the loneliness
it is different than. That one
I have no more use for, I wanted it once
& it wanted nothing,
which I gave it, which it would have taken
from me anyway, but which I am now
saving for myself, hoarding
in my nothingbox.
My new & different loneliness, together
we make an abysmal thief.
The river gives itself to me. I give the river
the river back.
Jeremy Radin is a writer, actor, teacher, and extremely amateur gardener. His poems have appeared (or are forthcoming) in Ploughshares, The Colorado Review, Crazyhorse, Gulf Coast, The Journal, and elsewhere. He is the author of two collections of poetry: Slow Dance with Sasquatch (Write Bloody Publishing, 2012) and Dear Sal (Not A Cult, 2022). He is the founder and operator of Lanternist Creative Consulting, through which he coaches writers and performers. Follow him @germyradin