Monday, April 9, 2012


it's bad.

it's bad when the stupid lyrics on idiot radio stations
pull at my heartstrings anyway
and my aloofness is no longer effective
so i break down anyway.

it's bad when t.s. eliot's wasteland
i know
like the back of my hand
and sanskrit is a livelier thing than
the parts of me that used to beat.
it's bad when sunshine looks like crap.
it's bad when the delightful cries of little girls and their songs
and their silliness
just sound like noises
behind the static of this sadness.
it's bad when none of it's worth it.
when none of me has ever been worth it.
when the things that are worth it
don't make this part any better or easier to take.

it's bad.

it's bad.

1 comment:

  1. Ah, does get better, in just tiny little increments, and even when you feel like, or actually have, moved 5 steps forward, then 6 back...but I will say, this was a beautiful and moving poem that I was very glad to have read today.