Joshua still feels lonely on
occasion and lonely feels him back
with long and nasty death-like fingers,
like a specter waiting to attack
that never rests but always lingers
and he can never be alone.
But alone and lonely are different kinds,
estranged lovers one-night-standing
when it's convenient, and when it's not,
laughing at Joshua's impending
shiver, and he wants to blot
out all he struggles to define.
Sitting in a chair and thinking,
he tucks his knees into his chin
and rocks his thoughts into and out
of consciousness, more out than in,
and he doesn't feel so strong and stout
in his inescapably rapid sinking.