I approached him at the party
Because I didn’t know anyone,
Because he looked harmless,
Because he stood alone,
And I introduced myself.
I said,
You must know a lot of these people,
And he looked straight ahead and said,
All my friends live underground.
And then I realized that he was almost dead,
And I had the idiotic notion that I could help him.
But then he looked right at me
And it hit me that I too was almost dead,
That nobody knew anybody here,
And that he was the only one who could stand the truth.
So I left,
Passing through rooms full of people,
Through the mudroom,
The ice-room,
The wind-room,
Out onto the sidewalk.
And I just started walking,
Following the angling streets
Breathing in the sour breath
Of an exhausted planet,
Trying to remember how to live.

Image by Evan Lindorff-Ellery

GARY LINDORFF, TCBH!’s resident poet, is an artist, musician, poet and counselor / dream-worker who practices shamanic techniques, and who lives in rural Vermont with his wife Shirley and two dogs. His website is BigDreamsWeb

EVAN JAMES LINDORFF-ELLERY is an visual and sound artist, currently based in Vermont and Chicago. He co-owns and co-curates a boutique cassette label releasing limited editions of sound art and experimental music. The label’s website can be found here, and his personal blog can be found here. He may be reached at thecoloroflight@hotmail.com