


Jay Cravath Ph.D.
Hermit
​
So you can’t handle friendship
You love me too much
I should be flattered
Yet the day has blackened
As others before us
And then our own blackness
Such sad demises
From such talented folks
Fine to cool it—take in some museums
Catch up on reading, visit relatives
Still, how quiet without you, silent really
In a heart that has built new walls
​
And—an announcement
I’ve decided to become a hermit
Give up women altogether
They are so complicated
Require high maintenance
If you are claimed
they won’t let you follow your heart
I’m wondering if romance is
worth all the bother of niceties
The calls and requisite emails
Asking after Blair and Aunt Sally
Her brother’s gall bladder
Noticing the new dress when
you meet again
​
I opened your picture on the computer
And looked at your smooth brown skin
Eyes flashing—in perfect tune
with your smile
I closed it quickly, it’s gone
Never to be seen again
Except in a publicity shot
Maybe on your website
Don’t want to see it anyway
I’m becoming a hermit, remember?
Hermits don’t have computers
They have long beards and live
in thick tangled forests
In sorry hovels without heat
Mumbling to themselves
Picking their teeth
​
With Bowie knives recently used
to clean glistening trout
Just caught from the swirling stream
Near the sorry hovel
​
It’s quite scenic really
The only difference is me
I am practiced cynicism
I grumble at the shrieking blue jay
Chase after crickets
singing 2-part rounds at night
Oh, the scenic part
The forest opens before sharded rocks
Giant gray teeth in clusters
Ardulite forgotten by ice ages
Strewn and forlorn
How sad—yet attractive actually
Beautiful caskets lined
on ragged bluffs and green shadows
I’d take a picture but
Hermits don’t have cameras