I will always be a little bit depressed.
I will always have that little spot in my heart
that you can feel lying in bed,
that feels like an unfinished apple
browning in the air.
I will always be a little depressed
with the sound of the swamp cooler overheard
and the sound of crickets outside at night
and the deep blue color of the sky
on a southern evening.
and the train running through town
across towns where the moonlight
seeps through shut blinds
where the tall grass climbs the pale blue walls
of a small townhouse under a telephone wire
and across the country,
where the desert spreads out from a lone house
like the mountains are
shying away from it
where a scared and tired young girl
tries to fall asleep with all the lights on
where fluorescent-and-concrete street lights
flicker on but nobody drives that night
and therefore nobody needs them
these things are all so sad
and so the question begs to be asked,
who can't connect with them?
ipso facto,
who isn't a little bit sad?