Tuesday, August 5, 2014

OTHER DAYS (for Dave Wilber)

some days i happily put on
the sad sweater, play old
songs that have me  
staring out the window like a dog 

longing to be owned. other days
i feel the itch of despair

around my neck like a funeral procession, a receiving line of fleas
parading past the deceased and nothing,
not even music, eases the grip

of this melancholy; all sounds
become dull tones of surrender,

like the baying of a dreaming stray who's
had enough of waking up alone

legs flailing vainly to find whoever
and wherever once was home.