Outdistanced, a Poem by Bradley W. Buchanan

For the collection: 'Life in the time of #COVID'

Who will distance

themselves the most

from all this grotesque

interpersonal mess?

I can’t run very fast or far

but I can retreat

into a remoteness

that few can match

and fewer still

can penetrate.

Give me six feet

and I will dive

a thousand leagues

beneath the skin-deep

human abrasions

to find the silent monster

at peace

in infinite objectivity.

You will die and I will die

in obverse order

with neighborly nods

and wry defiance

along the way.

I step streetwise unhurriedly

and squint at what

I have given way to—

the panting shape

of a runner

whose shoes

are echoes

greatly outdistancing me

but hardly closer to isolation

or to safety—

and kiss it goodbye.
 

Brad Buchanan’s writings have appeared in nearly 200 journals, and he has also published three book-length collections of poetry: 'The Miracle Shirker' (Poet’s Corner Press, 2005), 'Swimming the Mirror: Poems for My Daughter' (Roan Press, 2008), and 'The Scars, Aligned: A Cancer Narrative' (Finishing Line Press, 2019). He has also published two academic books, and has recently written blog entries for 'Poets & Writers' and SacWellness.com. His essay “I’m Done with Being a Cancer Survivor: What I am Now is a GvHD Patient” was published in 'Prometheus Dreaming', an online journal. He was diagnosed with T-cell lymphoma in February 2015, and underwent a stem cell transplant in 2016, which involved temporary vision loss and disability, as well as an ongoing illness: chronic Graft-versus-Host Disease.