I’ve never liked you, Sunday

You’re an imposter

Not the seventh

But actually the first

Here in the south

We can’t buy a beer

Can’t pay a bill

Or go to the bank

Your dismal afternoons

And especially evenings

Feel like death

No I don’t like you

Never have, never will

Even when I had

To go to work on Monday

I favored it over you

Monday is honest

At least it feels like a start

You’re a fake, trying to be

What you are not

…the Christian’s sabbath

I’m not fooled

You’re the first

But too lazy to admit it

And enjoying your control

Tho’ maybe you are

Like an indrawn breath

I do not like holding you

Former print journalist, former mayor, retired law enforcement officer. Writing about politics and government along with random personal essays.

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