i’m a depressed poem
by David Ignatow
You are reading me now and thanks. I know I feel a bit better and if you will stay with me a little longer, perhaps take me home with you and introduce me to your friends, I could be delighted and change my tone. I lie in a desk drawer, hardly ever getting out to see the light and be held. It makes me feel so futile for having given birth to myself in anticipation. I miss a social life. I know I made myself for that. It was the start of me.
I’m grateful that you let me talk as much as this. You probably understand, from experience; gone through something like it yourself which may be why you hold me this long. I’ve made you thoughtful and sad and now there are two of us. I think it’s fun.
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Oh my, I am depressed
You might well say, what’s new
I might well say that too
I’ve supersized up, I’ve got
depressed with extra fries
I’m looking for a love song
for Leonard
Depressed has got my tongue
my eyelids can’t go on
I am on a respirator
though you might not see that
at first glance
Just a crooked woman
with a beautiful dog
Searching her muffled heart
for a way to thank him
What really struck me in this poem is how gently it turns a piece of writing into something almost painfully human. There’s something oddly touching about a poem admitting it feels forgotten in a drawer, waiting for someone to notice it. The way it thanks the reader feels shy, almost grateful just to be held for a moment. And when it says it feels “futile” for having created itself in anticipation, that line hits harder than expected. It becomes a stand‑in for anyone who’s ever felt overlooked or underused. I love the moment when it realizes the reader is sad too, and suddenly they’re sharing the same space. It’s such a small, quiet connection, but it feels real. And for a poem that calls itself depressed, it ends with a warmth that feels almost like a hand reaching back.