Every now'n'agin, I try to write about depression. Thus, yesterday's poem. I don't think I've ever done more than just nibble around the edges of that cookie...but if I can't capture at least a bit of something that is so integral a part of who I have been, how can I hope to deal with the other biggies? Love and Faith and all that...after all, I'm a Serious Poet, here! :D
Speaking of depression, I was reading a couple days ago about how Abe Lincoln seems to have suffered from it pretty seriously (that's what got me started on the poem). Also, that he was a well read and fairly prolific, if mediocre, poet. Some of Lincoln's poems can be read at The Hypertexts -- go to the Esoterica section. Among them (and rather popular in his day) is a humorous bit of doggerel about a gay couple.
Not that they would have been called a 'gay couple' 150 years ago. 'Confirmed bachelors,' more likely. Like Lincoln's predecessor in the White House, James Buchanan. Very much a confirmed bachelor and likely our only gay president.
I've meandered a bit, haven't I?