my mother says my poems are sad

and she worries i am also sad

so i worry i may be deep-inside sad

and all the worrying actually makes me sad,

because it’s scary to be sad,

then i feel wrong that i feel sad

so i try hard not to feel sad

but sadness begets more sadness, so i’m an ocean of sad

i write a poem that is equally sad

and make every line end with the word sad

until i can no longer read the word ‘sad’

while listening to music made for moments immersed in sad

and i fall asleep with dry eyes for sad.

i wake up, stretch, and for now, i am no longer sad.

The City Proper

The City Proper