Propinquity

is not now a noun of renown,

nor has the populace formerly donned

the word with a crown of popularity, 

opting not to pull “propinquity” 

from its obscure nook in an obscure cave,

solitary, crouching at the base of a stalagmite.

But today I saw “propinquity" in an old poem

written by a dead person, 

a passionate and tender woman, 

judging by all these poems

she left behind when she died,

poems overflowing with propinquity,

and off to the dictionary I went

to find out what it meant.

It means closeness,

as in, “I long for the propinquity

that attends the primitive community.”

and “Why can’t there be more propinquity

between one and Infinity?”

and “I support propinquity, 

in the abstract, and here, in poetry, 

but please, Dad, get away from me."