Melancholia
the history of melancholia includes all of us.
me, I writhe in dirty sheets while staring at blue walls and nothing.
I have gotten so used to melancholia that I greet it like an old friend.
I will now do 15 minutes of grieving for the lost redhead, I tell the gods.
I do it and feel quite bad quite sad, then I rise CLEANSED even though nothing is solved.
that’s what I get for kicking religion in the ass.
I should have kicked the redhead in the ass where her brains and her bread and butter are at …
but, no, I’ve felt sad about everything: the lost redhead was just another smash in a lifelong loss …
I listen to drums on the radio now and grin. there is something wrong with me besides melancholia.
The Icecream People
the lady has me temporarily off the bottle
and now the pecker stands up
better.
however, things change overnight—
instead of listening to Shostakovich and
Mozart through a smeared haze of smoke
the nights change, new
complexities:
we drive to Baskin—Robbins,
31 flavors:
Rocky Road, Bubble Gum, Apricot Ice, Strawberry
Cheesecake, Chocolate Mint...
we park outside and look at icecream
people
a very healthy and satisfied people,
nary a potential suicide in sight
(they probably even vote)
and I tell her
“what if the boys saw me go in there? suppose they
find out I’m going in for a walnut peach sundae?”
“come on, chicken,” she laughs and we go in
and stand with the icecream people.
none of them are cursing or threatening
the clerks.
there seem to be no hangovers or
grievances.
I am alarmed at the placid and calm wave
that flows about. I feel like a leper in a
beauty contest. we finally get our sundaes and
sit in the car and eat them.
I must admit they are quite good. a curious new
world. (all my friends tell me I am looking
better. “you’re looking good, man, we thought you
were going to die there for a while...”)
—those 4,500 dark nights, the jails, the
hospitals...
and later that night
there is use for the pecker, use for
love, and it is glorious,
long and true,
and afterwards we speak of easy things;
our heads by the open window with the moonlight
looking through, we sleep in each other’s
arms.
the icecream people make me feel good,
inside and out.
I thought I'd start a new series where I feature poets I like, by posting two of their poems in one post. Twin Poems will be the name of this new series xD I know I haven't posted my own poetry in a while, but I think I'll be releasing video book reviews soon (here!) so you can look forward to that!! Cheers and Toodles !