Loneliness is having to light a cigarette by myself
In a tidy room with the radio turned on.
A man is announcing the news
But he can’t see that I am laughing at him.
There are sixty new cases of typhoid in Aberdeen
And no-one here to say ‘how terrible’!
Loneliness is making only one cup of coffee
And it is me killing a spider!
It is looking at photographs and listening to certain records and reading old letters.
But more than these, it is thinking about
People and how they can’t be trusted –
Not even myself. Probably there is
Nothing that really lasts. Nothing
Permanent, nor anything to insure against loneliness.
It is man’s inherent quality
And is the most certain fact in the world.
Among all our doubts this is something
Which we can believe. If only
It were not so terrible.