A Dash of Bitters

Antidepressant notwithstanding, I see nothing
Wrong with trudging humorlessly down the
Street. Enthusiasms aren't for me, so, as you
Vomit flights of fancy, rapt words wrapped in
Incoherence, stars and lilacs, all that shit, I'll
Turn from you and walk away, or, if you choose
To wave the flag, I'll sneer. Bend over, Uncle
Sam, and get what you've been dishing out.
A rotten nation, rife with guns, should give
Some thought to circumspection. I'd guess
That's a stretch for it. The lanes, inbound
And outbound here, are clogged with cars.
Each one is filled with some poor wretch
Whose sense of self would suffer if he
Hadn't found the means to mimic someone
Else. I trudge. I'm medicated now, but
Nothing here can make me happy. Am I
In the monkey cage? I feel as if I am.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 56 times
Written on 2016-03-04 at 00:41

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