No Answer

The sun rose up with a fuzzy eye,
didn’t make up its bed of clouds.
Birds’ racket shatters the air,
if you like dew, well, it glistens,
means wet feet on the garden path,
I slept well enough last night—
why do I feel so lousy this morning?

The car starts, faucets don’t leak,
rained enough to keep the lawn happy,
flowers too, bending and swaying,
had scrambled eggs and mushrooms
for breakfast, my favorite dish.
But my mouth tastes awful— coffee too strong?
Why do I feel so lousy this morning?

Headlines no worse than yesterday’s
accidents all over, everybody on strike,
nobody worth a damn won a baseball game.
That girl I met, full of joie de vivre,
called for an appointment, my blood
ought to jump instead of slog along,
quite a chick, I ought to be crowing instead—
Why do I feel so lousy this morning?