There's a lot
going on
but I'm never really part of it,
though sometimes I might tumble
through a flaw in some bad masonry
while leaning on the wall
that protects some small society
like this one
where I've landed,
splashing in your acid-bloodstream
on this stage
where I wait
to be eaten by your antibodies.
And I love depression.
Its so deep and thick and cool
that at the bottom of its pool
in my depression
I can sleep safe as a pea
beneath a hundred mattresses.
Yes I love depression.
Oh but then some damned princess comes along.
Here I am
all alone
with a multitude of satellites.
To each I give two gifts:
they have solitude to quench their thirsts and social inclinations
for emotional toilet seats.
They're happy
well fed machines:
self cleaning, self polluting,
self repairing, self destroying.
They're almost independent.
But they love depression.
Its so deep and thick and cool
that at the bottom of its pool
in our depression
we can sleep safe as a pea
beneath a hundred mattresses.
Yes, you and everyone of you loves depression.
Oh but then some damned princess comes along.
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