A Man Called Anders Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

He sits in his cell, not allowed to read newspapers
or watch TV. The centre of his mind is the coldest
place on earth…. He gives, for now, no ground for
other thoughts, say, that he might have committed
an unspeakable crime. His mother has forsaken him
his father wishes he will have the sense to take his
own life. His cell is frosty blue, those who feed him
avoid eye contact. No hand reaches out to touch him,
and his former friends tell us he was a big nobody.
He cannot hear this he will not hear, he is the king of
his own mind and mustn’t stray from his chosen path.
Cosmic loneliness, if he, one day, wakes up from his
slumber of self delusion and sees how grotesque he is
there will be no one to embrace him and give succor.