NLL (17.05.1981 / The Molten Core)

The Life Of A Lonely Man (For W.S)

there are no humans to touch,
when i am alone,
rooted to the indented chair,
where i have died a thousand times.
yet strangely the T.V
is always there to talk to me.
i Love the way the newsreader,
flirts with me, showing me her secret smile.
her eyes melt my heart.
i am never alone when the t.v is on.
you cant even say i have a drink problem,
because i drink with those in films.
laughing and smiling under heavy clouds,
of sexy smoke.
sometimes on sunday,
i go to church, singing hymns
such faith the box in my room brings.
then on monday i go to art shchool,
tuesday i help catch the fool,
who thought he could outwit the seasoned,
Wednesay i walk with dinsoars,
how loud are there roars,
thursday i sleep with another women,
forgetting about her when the screen,
go black.
Friday is fun i get to shoot a gun,
Saturday i perform open heart surgery,
on a sinking ship.

depsite what they say
i am never alone.

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Comments (2)

I like this, Vincent. I think for many people, TV does provide some relief from total isolation, even if it's not as true an intimacy as the figure in your poem might like to believe.
sad and a bit of terror thrown in to make sure the pain is known and the question: how to survive without human contact or not enough because in the end TV or any device doesn't work not well, if at all flesh needs flesh a fine poem