——-

If the depression didn’t exist…

——- 

If the depression didn’t exist

the pen wouldn’t write

the women wouldn’t manipulate

I wouldn’t wake up in the shower unaware

the bottles and another nameless conquest

(like a genie running rampant)

still asleep.

 ——-

If the depression didn’t exist

the savagery wouldn’t either, wouldn’t smile

the cerulean subterfuge wouldn’t sink

aubergine wouldn’t be a fucking noun

(the color of her corset revealed sadly)

her eyes, cyaneous, wouldn’t be the ocean in my mind

still asleep.

——- 

If the depression didn’t exist

coke dealers wouldn’t call me like long lost relatives

junkies wouldn’t remind me how many coins they earned

———in austere church basements

my friends wouldn’t be dead Russian writers in training

there would be somewhere she could return

heartache covered in ferriginous paint

still around.  

——-