Possible? This poem was inspired by Susan Sontag’s Illustrated Diary Excerpts, and this quote in particular: “Mad people who stand alone and burn. I’m attracted to them because they give me permission to do the same.” And this quote resonated as well: “Can I love non-possessively, permissively, without withdrawing myself, setting up my own defenses and strategic retreats, on one hand, or reducing the amount and intensity of my love, on the other?” I too aspire to love non-possessively but admit that the impulse, or instinct to both withhold and possess-protect myself-is nearly impossible to resist. I wind up feeling alienated, frustrated, confused. I must persist though, for it is likely the only humanistic love, love beyond community, perhaps even tribal.

WARES

I need a good barrel. Or barrelful.
Beer, rain, oil, doesn’t matter,
Just give it to me.
Then go

Or come, oh nuisance caller,
Nothing to sell, less to share.
Will we ever buy into each other?
Switch crowns? Silence crickets,

Respective niggles?
‘Tis folly, seeking sanctuary
Beneath a bat roosting tree.
Their jaunty black sky scribbles

Invade our periphery,
Jolt our creaky alliance.
Cold in front of the fire,
Burning side by side,

Stones skip beyond us,
Cinema of sunset so banal
It provides no sidetrack. Score.
Tally. Or anything we want.