HOWARD McCORD: POETRY & PROSE
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POETRY | POEM 06 |
Solitude
 

You do not know
anything until
you have spent seven days
or years in solitude.

You must be away from men
to certify the only truth
you can tell another:
“we are all mad, every
one of us.”

You must be away from men.
Alone, you have a chance for sanity,
away from men
        who foul their nests for money
        and eat their young in war.