Poem: ‘Poets And Antidepressants’

My good friend tells me: “You don’t have to suffer.”

Really?

As a conditionally sad person,
not tempted to put her head in the oven,
I should stay up and write it down.

Right?

Lose sleep
after the dog has quit watching
sit in the garden
pencil the pain
revise the resentments
under the solar lanterns glowing jade and lapis
between me
and the amber stars

When I swallow the pills, I don’t notice
I sleep through the hot August night full of metaphors

And I even forget the big easy times
when life was a puff of hope
a staircase of footy pajamas

If I take the yellow pills
Maybe I’ll write about
the cooing of doves
and the constancy of stars
but I’ll dodge the razor wire poems:
bright even circles
sharp enough to cut the feet off
poor unsuspecting pigeons

[Featured image: Larry Johnson/flickr/creative commons]