Is There Anybody Out There?
Entering my goodies into sites,
Self-publishing, etcetera, today, I quietly
Feel desparate.
Just today and just this minute
I am yearning for a reader – maybe two.
It’s the strangest curiosity,
This urgent need for you.
A thoughtless teen?
Must I be seen?
Nix,
I am seventy and six.
And over those pretentious tricks.
What confirmation do I crave?
None – when I look inside
Myself, I’m riding waves
Of aptitude. I write.
This calling-out is quite
Incomprehensible.
Perhaps I’m being ruled by ghosts
Of incarnations past
Whose needs unsatisfied
Are in my pride,
Pride being, as you know,
Impedimental to the most,
In this case to the host.
Ridiculous-t!
© Is Anybody Out There 12.7.2010
A Sense of the Ridiculous; Circling Round Vanities;
Arlene Corwin
Arlene Corwin Poetry 