Every summer, you read Middlemarch but never make it past the middle

by | Jun 13, 2023 | Issue Thirty-Three, Poetry

What loneliness is more lonely than distrust? 
— George Eliot, Middlemarch

What season is lonelier than summer? Come August, the palm trees undress beneath your window; bark sloughs & gasoline kaleidoscopes the footpath you run. You are good about replenishing the canned goods; you are prepped for hurricanes & floods. Loneliness clips a leash around your throat. Remember the graffiti on I-45 that would shout BE SOMEONE on your commute to school, then how lonely it was to be someone you can’t trust? Now recall how you once kept a mirror in your glovebox, a reaction to that time you offered a man your mind & he studied it for a very long time, then walked away—

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