Tuesday, March 14, 2023

2 poems

by walter w johnson iii


sometimes i feel so all alone
i want to get on the telephone
and call everybody i ever knew
and tell them i am feeling blue

but i do not know their number
or whether they are in endless slumber
or if they would answer my call
or remember me at all

this is how it ends
with my phone my only friend
it answers every question i ask
and never tells me to take off my mask


i try to write happy poems
not just moans and groans
but somehow they write themselves
in increasingly mournful tones

why is the universe so sad
is it because it is fading away?
maybe i will try to write my happy poem
some other day

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