Solitude

By ADRIENNE SU

I had had my fill,
but I kept devoting more 
days, then weeks to it, 

buying books, making 
no plans, as if empty slots 
would well up with rain, 

pushing anyone 
who might edge into my space 
away as if by 

natural forces. 
I never pledged anything 
permanent to it,  

but habit carves rock. 
Why did I think a movie,  
a concert, a game 

would drown something out? 
I have come to my senses. 
I believe in books, 

but they have their place. 
The flowers in them lack scent. 
Books cannot feed you; 

they are at their worst 
when imitating romance, 
not because they don’t 

get it but because 
they do: romance is mental. 
That’s why, looking back 

on real-life failures, 
you ask, What was I thinking?  
You already know 

what you were doing. 
Even at the time, you knew 
what you were doing.  

 

Adrienne Su recently published her first essay collection, Hot, Sour, Salty, Sweet. Author of five books of poems, including Peach State and Living Quarters, she teaches at Dickinson College.

[Purchase Issue 28 here.]

Solitude

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