No one paints loneliness like he does. Those half-clad women by the bed, on
the floor, hunched over, staring out the window, in profile or from behind,
always clean lines, such worshipful light. The gas station in the middle of
nowhere, estranged couples on the bright-lit porch after dark. Even the boats
sail alone. And the diners. The hatted strangers, coming on to a redhead, a
moody blonde, all of them losers, all of them desperate for a second chance.
This morning the sunlight pried open my eyes, flooded our bedroom walls. I
sat alone, in profile on our bed in a pink chemise, knees drawn up, arms
crossed over my calves, staring out the window. Desperate for you. No one
paints loneliness like Edward Hopper paints me, missing you, apologies on
my lips. Come back. Stand below my window. Watch me beg for a second
chance. Downturned mouth, teary eyes, parted knees, open thighs, that famous
shaft of Hopper light a white flag, if only you could see.
Alexis Rhone Fancher
This poem was first published in H_NGM_N.
Alexis Rhone Fancher’s poem, “when I turned fourteen, my mother’s sister took me to lunch
and said:” was chosen by Edward Hirsch for inclusion in The Best American Poetry of 2016.
Find her poems in Rattle, The MacGuffin, Slipstream, Wide Awake: Poets of Los Angeles,
Hobart, Chiron Review, Quaint, Fjords Review, Broadzine,Cleaver and elsewhere. She’s the
author of How I Lost My Virginity To Michael Cohen, (Sybaritic Press, 2014) and State of Grace:
The Joshua Elegies, (KYSO Flash Press, 2015). Since 2013 Alexis has been nominated for 7
Pushcart Prizes and 4 Best of the Net Awards. www.alexisrhonefancher.com
The Ekphrastic Review
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