A poem by R.M. Dolin, April 2026
C’est La Vive
There a subtle surrender that settles
over a soul
when everything goes to shit,
a chaotic calm resting
within a resignation drowning
in quiet sirens of shock
signaling symptoms of estrangement
mixed with a withering indifference
to callous calamities causing
a cavalcade of confusion,
all of which winds up
getting tossed together with
a truthful topping of
c’est la vive.
From chapter 9 of the R.M. Dolin novel, “An Unsustainable life – The Book of Issac.” After Issac’s world crumbles, he sits alone in his apartment, surrounded by the ghosts of everyone who’s abandoned him. It’s the opening paragraph of the chapter.
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