I defy you, depression!

Trivialities trip lightly along the tongue.
That trollop, time, traipsing through,
tramping, treading on my tongue and teeth and lips.
Time taunts.

I am alone and
words fall slip-sliding roughshod
over tongue-teeth-lips and out.
Words flow.

In company, though,
my tongue is blocked,
teeth crumbled, crushed under weighty words,
lips stitched shut, threads of
convention-cowardice threaded through

Nothing left to do

but post a crappy poem on my lj.