On Depression

I don't write a whole lot about depression, but now and then I do...

Unipolar

My brain is a director who prefers
film noir, sets me up

with femme fatales and says
action. Play of shadows

and harsh light, setting
of dark alleys and street corners

where taxis won’t pull over.
Neon signs keep blinking

from shorts in the wiring.

A Little Morning Poem from Last Weekend

Good Morning

I talked so loudly she said
she tried shushing my discussions

from her dream, waking
to realize the noise all came

from me, two sides of an argument,
two parts of me she’d never seen.

I hope next time she’ll wake me.