I really need the exercise.
I Want To Be Blue
I want to be glum, let the fogs insulate
my shall-be blues–damp me, dim me, limit
my grins. And blast any sunnier state.
Damn chameleon clouds. Gray hearts that mimic
mine, but light-shot, and rosy at the rim.
Those vapor-brained, day-in-the-park puffs pick
on me, mock my miseries, and flicker
like fools. If I want faded blues, don’t splash
me with glitter and silver linings. Kick
me while I’m down, don’t flip that finger of flash.