Monday

Damn.
Ugh.
Ah-choo!

Is it really already morning?
How much longer can I just snooze?
How bad could traffic be today?
What more do I have to lose?

I hate Mondays.
I’m always in some pain.
I wish I had another shirt.
Will someone see this stain?

Wow. Traffic. Lovely.
Looks like all the roads are blocked.
I should’ve worked at home today.
I should just go get crocked.

Only twenty minutes late.
That shouldn’t damage my career.
Especially after I walk the halls,
And see nobody else is here.

I need a quart of coffee.
Just stick it in a vein.
I need to keep it coming.
It helps to ease the pain.

Mornings are a torture.
Monday morning doubly so.
Let’s go and have a meeting.
It’s the only way to go.

Is it time to go home yet?

Unknown's avatar

Author: Blind John Ellsworth

Blind John Ellsworth (1960- ), a (questionable) poet and sometimes Texas bluesman. He has recorded one spoken-word album (thankfully unreleased), since he is still trying to learn to play guitar. (Lack of musical skills is what makes him a poet and not a lyricist. Plus, he can’t write music.)

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