Lines Written During my Second Pandemic

Lines Written During my Second Pandemic
Eduardo Corral

All water flows toward loneliness.
Loneliness is a black eye, a gleaming pit,
we have yet to split loneliness like an atom.
Loneliness arrives on a leash of scorpions.
In my scull, loneliness opens like a parachute.

It's illegal to chain loneliness to a fence.
Flickers tunnel though loneliness to build nests

I sprinkle a spoon of sugar over loneliness.
In some languages, loneliness is imperfect.
Antlers crown the bald head of loneliness.
Like rough trade, loneliness won it kiss you.
Loneliness crouched in a tree afraid of dirt.

In the dark, loneness ripens too quickly.
Beneath the roof of loneliness, my blood drifts.

Eduardo C. Corral is the son of Mexican immigrants, the author of
Guillotine (Gray wolf Press, 2020), his work has been supported 
by fellowship from the Guggenheim Foundation and the 
Lannan Foundation. He lives in Raleigh, North Carolina.  


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