How Should We Measure Loneliness

I think first we have to examine
whether loneliness is even an Event.
I guess it is, it happens, but,
at the same time, it doesn’t.

That’s what makes it so odd
and unquantifiable. Let’s
(I and the distant you) just
assume that it is

or there will be no point
to the next 10 stanzas.
I really haven’t planned that far
in advance, so, please, no counting.

Anyway, Paul proposed
(Not the Apostle or any of the Popes.
The cute one. The one with
something worth saying.)

that we look at all the lonely people.
Ok, ok, that’s a start, but, two problems…
one, where does that get us, really,
statistically-speaking, and it seems
labor-intensive.

(We’re writing a poem here.
If I wanted to work, I’d get a job.
I think we can all agree that loneliness
should be looked at anecdotally.)

and, two, I think it would make Eleanor
uncomfortable. She’s already lonely
and now she wants a bunch of unlonely
people looking at her? Uh-uh, Paul,
love ya, but, that ain’t it.

No, it’s got to be empirical,
something you can put you finger on.
Like, if Bob Beamon were lonely
how lonely would he be?

29 feet and 2 1/2 inches lonely.
Well, yeah, in Mexico City, but at altitude?
See, it’s anybody’s guess
and that’s really the problem.

Every situation is different.
No one knows
the circumstances
of other people’s porches

hotel rooms or couches.
No one knows why you left her
or she left you. Yeah, she probably does.
Talk to her about it, if you want
to research this subject further.

Eh, I guess we’ll measure loneliness
the way we’ve always done it.
Ask people how much
they love their dogs

and count their stanzas.

–July 25, 2016