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Now Fridays are so ordinary
Entrada de blog en MundoPoesía — poesía, reflexiones y prosa libre de nuestra comunidad literaria.
Now Fridays are so ordinary
Now Fridays are so ordinary
Fridays are so ordinary and bland; there is no place to go.
Run says the cat to the mouse in the trap
Early in the morning, the flowers wake
Eskimos have multiple names for snow, so they say
Days are not even worth the ink that they are printed on
Oh, those damn loud sounds in the silence wait
Monday will soon come again, so I wait.
____________________________
Dallas, Texas
1/16/2021
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2 comentarios
B
And this all not because of the pandemic or whatever quarantine there might be, but due to a deepest isolation at all. Cats had better drink themselves dead with ink than wait for any mouse to run again. A poem of the nonsense pandemic. A tale of the there being just as a human being.
G
Fridays used to be fun, unlike today, yes, just trying to be human in some way...I am so gald that you're back.
XOXOX
XOXOX