Jan G. Otterstrom F.

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Years ago I wrote: “solitude is a home”
as a naïve sensitive teenage boy
not knowing the outposts of life
facing dark mind jungles entwined
moving troubles that quake the heart
alone as one’s kind, separated genetically
loneliness of thoughts, subjects without verbs
even spaces of negation of habit
disorientation that perturbs experience
a discomposing emptiness, intrusion on feelings
that stimulate dangling nerves in a void
like a blind man in a large room
only aware of what is touched.

Jan G. Otterstrom F. 3/11/2012