Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

laid bare by a monday morning

there is no escaping it
the way everything is amplified
laid bare by a monday morning

shampoo stinging
cell phone ringing

the national public radio announcer’s voice is deeper

the crosswalk woman is laughing louder

your coffee is hanging up
missing posters for cream

matt lauer looks like a mole rat

you wear your clothes like a first marriage

and during your commute in

you force yourself to forget
what you wanted
in the first place

6 replies on “laid bare by a monday morning”

Goddam… I say Goddam. Get out of my head. So here’s to Mondays, where short commutes through traffic lights that never turn green lead you to coffee shops being bulldozed by a high school chum. And then it turns out your company is being sold, and you better explain how it is that things are going to go on, because they are going to go on, and you’re getting old, and you’re wanting something else. What you wanted, right. I remember that. It wasn’t this. It wasn’t these fluorescent lights and this beige ergo furniture, or that snow pile outside, or crunching salt as big as teeth on the parking lot. It wasn’t. I forget when the horror became the norm. But that’s definitely teeth in my neck. In my guts. Savage fucking beasts having a go at me, and me joining the club. I didn’t see that coming.

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