Sunday, October 24, 2010

Customer Service Complaint

It's not fall that makes me depressed,
not the dying leaves or the birds flying south
or afternoons that arc into evening,
waking up to a sun half-set.
It's not mice crawling back into houses
and sad wet cats meowing for help
in the alley, hiding under dumpsters
from the next pummeling of rain.

It's not fall that makes me depressed,
not the tired-looking evergreens
wondering when, if ever, they'll get a break
from their relentless color,
or the last of the bees still wandering,
starving mad, aching to please their queen.

It's not fall that makes me depressed,
it's the fact that regardless of what season
it is, how many birds or bugs or vermin
are all holed-up, every day remains
the same deluge of self-important people
with the same self-important problems
feeling that I am somehow obligated
to help solve them.