Oh, for Nothing

By Jesse Bodley

Oh, for Nothing is a collection of poems inspired by alcoholism and clinical depression.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jesse Bodley
• Release date: Mar 12, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224768165

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Copyright © 2024 by Jesse R. Bodley

All rights reserved.

Table of Contents

Lacey Girl

One Euthanization

Lucky Dogs

To Never Wake Up

Bullet Points

Failed Bohemians

Existential Conclusions

The Sepulchral Ruins

Change

Conniption Fit

Perception

If Not For Her

Breathless Song

Alone In Winter

Only Now We See

Security

Arc

Always A Remainder

Why Do I Do This To Myself

Smile Insanity

Failure In Life

Sunset Deicide

Transmigration Of Souls

Relapse

Left

Predestination

Adieu

The Good Wolf

Sewing Room

Isolation And Alienation

A Summertime Dream

Plaster Of Paris

Karmic Cruelty

Mirror Monster

Low And Limerent

Can’t Rely

Death Rattles

LSD Day

Elegance

If You’re There

The Gods Are Unconcerned

All The World Lost

Complex

Who Am I Kidding

Babble

Anathema

Insecurity

Delusions

Renewal

Things Which Do Not Matter

Best To Have A Friend

Regret

Personal History

This Thing Is Understanding

Freeform

Mayday

Vulnerable

Routine Digression

Hair Trigger

Bummer

Note

Depression

When I’m Dying

Sadnesses

Satellite Sunlight

The Real Me

Lost Face

Now, Then

Corpses And Dinners

The Miscarriage That Is My Life

Whatever

Strange Bird

The Cold Is Warm

Beyond Origin

The Only Thing Worse Than Poetry

I Don’t Get To Be A Person

Cliche

Make Your Bed And Lie In It

The Very Same

Anomie

Lacey Girl

As a child, I was free only among the trees, where I

walked a wooded trail—in chase of my dog’s tail.

She led as she wagged and waited if I lagged—behind,

to heel beside me with the patience of a lab.

I’d heed her front paw lift up and point with her nose

as she straightened her tail—and listened for the danger

which waited round the trail. ‘Til she was sure, as nature

is so pure, our souls should continue—sail our bodies

down the trail. Across gated pastures where cattle grazed,

to meadows, swamps, and a creek of sweet water, where

we were raised. There in the meadows, we would smell

and pick the flowers—to take with us to the swamp, and

drop as we would count the hours. And by and by, we ran

along the creek—so high, and a current raged below the

surface, which reflected not only the blue sky, but a boy

and his dog, who both could fly.

One Euthanization

How old you are, now

—and still I see a pup.

How gray you are; a

last sip you take, from

the supple cup. Now, so

feeble, decrepit and senile.

I remember you, then,

teething on my shoe laces,

my Lacey Girl. Darlin’, we

were children together, crated

in our indifference to the world.

I saw you read my unspoken

words. You heeled to my side;

you felt my dirge. We went for

a ride; I felt us merge. Our heart

is a tide; our soul is a surge.

Lucky Dogs

It must be better not to know;

there is nowhere to