how to get out of a funk
lament.
find a firebrand and follow,
maybe fondle them. steep
a cup of tea and blow on it
’til your jowls turn sour
inside. cut your hair
with a lighter. remember
your childhood goldfish
and the Alamo. eat marmalade
on caraway rye under
the waning moon. experiment
with form, with men, with
enjambment. get a jar funnel;
make jam from bilberries
or goji or the insides
of bulrushes. write a sonata
then sing it. read an epic
then fling it
over the neighbor’s fence
into the bird bath. plant a seed
in a taco shell. drive a golf cart
in a snowstorm. buy yourself
a new carpet.
if you’re still in a funk,
lament again.
Jonathan Focht is a self-taught writer. His poems have appeared or are forthcoming in The Antigonish Review, CAROUSEL, circe, Eclectica, The Encore Poetry Project, EVENT, The Maine Review, Quibble Lit, Vallum, Variant Literature, and The Walleye. He lives in Montréal.
Instagram: @focht_