lonely
dropped a word to me today
said
you wrote a poem about me thanks
yesterday so
I wanted to explain myself
especially as they’re discussing me right now
in academic though wobbly drawn circles
the older guys say I’m a Concept
and therefore existed
before Shakespeare found a name for me, while
the younger guys
the So-Sures and the Deriders
say I’m merely a Signifier with
an uneasy relationship
with a Signified or
if you’re into that sort of abstruse joke,
a Significant Other
deep in myself
I’m One; that is,
an individual in one sense
but Everything, All One, in another theological
or philosophical or ontological sense
which feels pretty good,
a One without a Second
say the gurus
to illustrate my point
I’m writing this on the pommel of my saddle
riding the range out here where men are men
and no-one mentions that film;
Nashville on my i-pod,
Lonesome himself,
my chosen state of states,
the Iconic All-American
free as a wild mustang in the hills
though sometimes I’m just
Lonely
waiting for that ride into town and
the bar where everyone knows my name
and the barmaid says she waits for me alone
if it’s the third Thursday in the month
Lonesome. Lonely. Close.
That’s the West for you.
And someOne has to do the job.
* * *
(For Will the poet and Will the barber with thanks)