Everyone looks so sad on the train at 3 pm

All stories


We all have stories.

Some tell their stories
The others listen and make them their own

I’m sad
I’m stoned

There’s no way home
This is a story
about a haunting

Every day haunts me
My stomach is empty
stale Coffee
clogged veins
Where I am is
where pain lies awake.


(How can you stay disabled in mind
And make it in life)
We the people are all
Depression isn’t a marketable skill.
Purple pills and Ill will is a skill
And stay clear of the manics
Their insannnnne
They will make love to your soul.

Read my books
Each word neatly trimmed
Paint you a picture
And then consult and manage
Or whatever
You do
and I will
will write
I can.

We are all
Worth a damn.
There is so many
better then me
At many things
Practical things
Their soft skills
Their business management skills
Sheeple skills.


Let me be odd
And pay me for it
Every missed train along the way
Says the world will go on
Without me
And etc. etc.
planets will align
And bills will be paid

I am a scientist from Oddball comics
1963 that’s what the internet says

On the moon
Sounds like
In space
The world seems
To shine
Like the mirror
I wake up to


Poetry is the only thing
That I know what to do
How to start movements
Make trails
How to rhyme sentences
How to use forms
How to make mundane
How to river dance the written word
And of course


The shiny
I look at
Looks inward
I see ghosts

And all I see is this American Ghost
Seen through the eyes
Of an old me
Or a new me
Walt Whitman through the looking glass


sadness lasts on my eyelids
From last night
I am sorry
God I have made you cry so
Many times
Just to release the seasons
And the celebration

Of abandoned dreams
And anything else

We look to answer
But have no answer for

Like death

Like ghosts

Like depression

Like nothing

Like how nothing
Leads to nothing.


Jason Wright is the founder and Editor of Oddball Magazine. His column appears weekly.