Et Tu, Camus

I’m a strange bird Maybe no stranger than you perhaps but I sure seem strange to me I need to love and be loved And I don’t have much success with either I want to run up to all these strange folks And give ‘em a hug and wish ‘em well but I can’t do that or people would think I’m strange So all I can do is use these words Strange words loaded with feeling But words are easily brushed aside Without ever making a coherent connection It’s a strange thing, this strange, strange Life of mine But I give it to you nonetheless In the hopes that someday What may now seem strange Will, in the test of time, prove to be Perfectly normal. (Previously published in Some Words: A Place For Poetry, Fall 2003)