I feel productive, ready
for a day of work,
sweet tempered, sexy,
more than adequate…
then I wake up.
Some days, it holds.
Some days, it doesn’t…
Mondays
are why we invented God
and gave him the whole day before
for himself,
figuring that he might be still in a good mood
the next day, a favor granting mood,
a prayer answering mood.
Mondays are most of why
I gave up on a personal God.
Mondays color everything atheist
no matter how long I spent in church
the day before.
Mondays pinch hit for all the other days
some weeks…
yet I still am perfect
before I awaken
on Monday mornings,
and sometimes
for hours afterward,
and that’s why I still give up Sundays
to God: it’s all for the hope of hope
and the fear of ultimate despair
that I still keep track of the days at all.
