It lies just beneath the surface.
Occasionally erupting – revealing its demon face.
Then it disappears until something sets it off again.
It never seems to go away for good.
Not on its own.
It is called Depression.
Depression has come back to haunt me again.
I thought I had whipped it.
Cast it into the sewers of Manhattan.
Flung it against the rocks of the Ramble of Central Park
drop kicked it onto the subway tracks in Times Square.
But, it was waiting for the day life trips me up.
That was the day I was laid off from my job.
Oh, I played it off at first.
I went to Jezebel’s that night and had a couple of Bellini’s to celebrate my freedom.
But Monday loomed ahead and I suddenly felt lost again.
What was I going to do with my days?
I dread New York City summers.
I detest the heat, humidity, the stank odors that rises from the concrete.
I welcome the rains and storms that sweep the streets and sidewalks clean, sweeten the air, and cool the summer heat.
So, I wasn’t looking forward to another summer with no job to go to.
I found myself sleeping until noon,
watched the judges tell off people standing in front of them, surfed the net,
and played solitaire and scrabble on my computer until I'm crossed eyed.
I don’t go to bed until 4 or 5 in the morning.
And I won’t go out until the sun goes down and the night air has cooled.
But now the demon has shown it's face again.