Way Less Sad

Long day yawns into night--
still just dusk, too early for bed
but my brain is mush now.
Thoughts oatmeal into concrete,
atrophy into formless
lump in my stomach.

But this music heard from another room,
pulls at earstrings, morphs to earworm,
but the tunes not bad, and suddenly,
I'm way less sad.

Switching up dishes
for dangling participles.
At least the dishwasher's full
and way less sad.

Vacuuming the living room rug
leaves weird patterns:
but the song's infectious
and the vacuum cleaner and I
dance, do short sweeps and dips.

Song is on repeat loop,
spinning, an unending carousel
like the ones I barrel raced as a kid
when imaginations weren't constrained
and paranoia wasn't contagious.

Real-time writing as dusk turns
the trees to silhouettes
and I glance at the time.
Bedtime beckons.

I sleep too much
these days or, all too often, turn and tussle
with my pillow. Unsettled, unreasonably sad
over nonsensical issues. My mind
then circuits into overload.
Unrelated thoughts trip breakers;
flashing misformed thoughts
crashing into brainwalls,
sparking new arcs of disconnection.

But tonight, a tune jangles welcomely,
refraining from usual night jaundices.
'I'm not happy, but I'm way less sad'
and just maybe, I'll sleep.















https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VlVhUbGa2pg