In a Sudden Depression (Roadside)
In a Sudden Depression (Roadside)
In a sudden depression,
I say maybe you should just let me
lie down in a ditch, and I see,
as you drive through the darkness, me opening
the car door, only the scuttle’s gentle, not fast,
the body finding at last
a roadside channel where algae ivies
my cheek and eyes stare glassily
as pond scum, not perhaps
as active, (though bugs do frond
the uproots of
my hair something squinching
my ear) and you, driving steadily, say, no,
that wouldn’t be a good idea,
and I, glad for the seat belt, say still, to be dramatic,
why not sooner
than later? as you, adjusting the brights, answer, what’s wrong
with a little
procrastination?
the only roads home sometimes
these dark
curved ones.
****************************************
A short draft poem. Please read with a sense of humor!
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Tags: in a sudden depression poem, manicddaily, procrastination not bad when it comes to some things poem, scuttle gentle not fast, what's to be done with the undone poem
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ManicDDaily 
October 14, 2015 at 11:34 pm
Like ‘algae ivies’ and the bugs squishing – wonderful imagery.
On another note, I’m hoping to move house tomorrow 🙂
October 15, 2015 at 4:52 am
Congrats Polly! Hope it is a positive move for you. K.
October 15, 2015 at 8:12 am
It will be, for sure, k 😄 so looking forward to it — fingers crossed for no further delays… x
October 15, 2015 at 9:45 am
I’d say your husband’s responses are perfection. I will remember this approach as my daughter is currently in a depression and also fortunately has a wonderful sense of humor. “What’s wrong with a little procrastination?” I love it.
October 15, 2015 at 11:18 pm
Thanks, Sherry.
October 15, 2015 at 11:45 am
There is a dark humour to this piece, perhaps because the reader recognizes something of self in the hyperbole but here is also a serious undertone, and also of course, the sense of what it is to have a companion to keep one going straight ahead on the dark curved roads. I love how you used ‘ivies’ and ‘frond’ as verbs.
October 15, 2015 at 11:55 am
Sometimes the idea of just laying down in that ditch seems terribly attractive–but, yeesh–bugs in the hair(so redolent of the squirmy horror of the grave) and the annoying wet clinging on the cheek—This is a poem of mature days, I think–life makes us wry and deflates our youthful dramatizing–also, it doesn’t hurt to have a seat-belt. This is really a subtle and crafty poem, k.
October 15, 2015 at 8:25 pm
Thank goodness for the seat belt and an understanding companion. I love the dark humor. Sometimes, that’s what it takes to make it through.
October 20, 2015 at 2:40 am
this is a spooky pen, K ~