poesia del giorno

discouragement seems to be hanging ’bout my head like a wreath.
not sure what it’s about.
but there it is still.
just there.
see it?
huh.
me neither.
i can’t ever see it exactly.
i just know it’s there.
a feeling.

when life is actually fine.
when things are going great.
and there is nothing to complain about.
per se.
nothing to complain about that one could do anything about.
at least.

it’s a fine day with a damp cloud overhead.
it’s a beautiful beach with a rotten smell blowing in.

just like my favorite pants that i accidently ripped-
i wear them anyway.
lp