Cloud

A week into my wife's trip

back to the old country

for her and the boys

to spend time with her mom
its like I never got married
never had children
and I quickly become deranged by something -
let us call it loneliness, or disconnection
the building is even more unusually quiet than usual
a carpeted and well maintained mausoleum
am I the only one alive?
no, the cockroaches in the kitchen,

the earthworms on the balcony
and our Spinifex mice in the basement
are still there when I visit them
but I crave human company
anything that has a body, and can speak
to try and penetrate the desperate silence
I feebly leave messages, send SMSs, write emails
the messages go unresponded to,
the emails vanish into the cyber-ether
again the heavy silence returns
they're shooting a short film in the park downstairs
I chat with the producer,

I could always bandy terms around
but really I've nothing to say to anyone
they’re all as dull and lifeless as me
programmed robots swapping programmed thoughts
I turn down awkward dinner invites
knowing loneliness in a crowd is much worse
but am then left alone with my barren thoughts
I look at pornography
like a fish struggling on a hook
watch tv and stuff my face
go for a swim in the ocean

hoping the cold will provide a different kind of numb
I smile at a plain woman on the beach
soon I may forget how to speak altogether
I drive around Sydney for hours looking for an earthly connection
but cannot bring myself to pay for it

convinced even in the acting out
what I seek will elude me
'til the body is weary, the petrol tank empty
and some kind of reluctant acceptance of my fate arises

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Published in Poet’s Union Anthology 2010

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