In the Weeds

In the Weeds

It goes down hot and hollow
and leaves a knot deep in my gut.
It makes me act the fool
and strands me in a rut.

I've never said an intelligent word
when I'm in the weeds like this.
There is no understanding
wisdom that flees like morning mist.

So, spare me your heartfelt sympathy
and your sincere pats upon the back.
It's not what you say, but what you do
that shows me what you lack. 

I believe I'll just sit right here
and enjoy my rot-gut misery. 
But try me again tomorrow
and we'll see what we shall see.