If I break a cup or a bowl in the living room of this dusty apartment, it
will just lie there for months. I can’t bring myself to pretend that I am
expecting somebody.

1.21.2000

01/21/2000

Author's Note: This is part of a group of mostly prose poems I wrote in 2000 & 2001. "loneliness:" is not part of the original titles. A friend of mine grouped them together, referring to them as "Studies in Loneliness," hence the added bit.

Posted on 02/19/2009
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