The Sad’s weighing a bit heavily on the human’s back
these days. Some days, The Sad has a bone to pick
but no flesh left inside it, so it makes the human smash
plates or drive 200 miles out to the Dali Museum
to buy a decorative melting clock (that doesn’t actually
tell the time, which The Sad finds quite fitting). Other days,
The Sad pretends to be The Happy, so it can drag the human
to the beach and force them to act amused by all the children
flying banana-shaped kites and screaming penis in the sky!
Penis in the sky! But, most days, The Sad just sits there and creates
a moody feeling, the sort of unease that would encase the world
if garlic never existed, or if Vivaldi only experienced three seasons.
Can you even imagine, a world where Spring never sprung?
