This morning I woke up here,
thinking I’d rather not be.
Nowhere to go
except work
as a dirty mongrel.
I bow with the man
in camouflage hat,
crooked cig,
crooked sun,
power truck.
Have no courage.
Search for redeeming energy.
Life is all heavy black.
Day Job, Depression, Failure, Fear, Poems, Poetry, recovery, Resistance
This entry was posted on February 8, 2011, 5:15 am and is filed under Poems. You can follow any responses to this entry through RSS 2.0. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
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stillfugue
#1 by me on February 8, 2011 - 6:07 am
Hmm, sounds familiar. Let me know if you find any of that redeeming energy.
#2 by Carl on February 8, 2011 - 7:12 am
Thank you for commenting. When I find it, I think it is from people who understand. I look every day.
#3 by Evelyn on February 9, 2011 - 8:30 pm
perfect. simple. trim.
clear message.
really well written!!
#4 by Carl on February 9, 2011 - 10:09 pm
Thank you! You are full of kind words!