Winter 2009 • Vol. XXXI No. 1 PoetryJanuary 1, 2009 |

The Man Who Wasn’t Loved Enough

He felt he wasn't loved enough.Rain fell. Trees shook in the windlike wet dogs. But what would be enough? He did not know. He'd been lovedby a few, perhaps more than most.It made no sense counting, or rather the count meant nothing in the end.What he had missed was a certainintensity, something that would pierce the membrane that covered the selfbut through which the selfwas always leaking. There was no face behind the glass, only clouds injuredby jostling one another, and no lightningwhich would've made it somehow worth the bruises. Against the windowthe rain knocked, a liquid fist, wantingnot to be admitted, but to shatter.

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David Bergman is the author most recently of The Poetry of Disturbance: The Discomforts of Postwar American Poetry (Cambridge, 2015). His latest book of poetry is Fortunate Light (Midsummer Night’s Press, 2013). He teaches at Towson University.

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By David Bergman

He felt he wasn't loved enough.Rain fell. Trees shook in the windlike wet dogs. But what would be enough? He did not know. He'd been lovedby a few, perhaps more […]

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