sad poems

sad songs catch common cold
novels get a flu
epopees pneumonia...maybe even one big lung collapse
or two...
sad songs rent small rooms without garden without the view
novels buy them their maids too
sad poems don't wear scarfs
they drink gin martini and vodka
without ice
what if the ice would giggle in the glass..
sad novels
wear only black dots maybe pink hats
they smoke long pipes
and wander sleep walking sleep talking
hysterical with their morals
sad poems infect empty sheets
and fifteen years old naiv girls
sad songs catch on purpose a sneeze
rambling in the rain
hiding in shadows from the brighty bright sun
barefoot in poodles dancing waiting
sad poems
paint flowers on their dresses
black roses daisies tulips
sad novels end up on the tombstones
or in the cathedrals