Mortaljive: The Rest is Silence

There is no still point in all the Universe, and that is the rock upon which I stand

Friday, September 09, 2011

Friday, dear Friday, How is it You Merit?

friday, dear friday, how is it you merit?
your name oft intoned like a magical ferret
and girls go all dreamy, and boys go robust
thinking of friday as wind? it would gust
for friday stands fierce, a great barrier
between the mere weekday and more is the merrier
a bulwark against the the bleakest depression
a place where one's fantasies can exclaim and hold session
for Friday was once the day we got paid
and with enough drinks we dared to get laid
and music was blaring and light was on fire
and girls with their skin, and their hair brought desire
for why did the monkey work so very hard
and walk up to strangers and offer his card?
and gather bananas and show off his butt?
to get some young cutie to sleep in his hut!
and though this can happen on monday or mid-week
the drama of it came upon friday's peak
a joint, a beer, a shot and a smoke
one last game of pool and one last tiny toke
but when you looked up, the hour had passed
and the girl that you fancied had exited fast
and suddenly saturday walked in like a duck
all soggy and goofy and shit out of luck
so just a reminder, for romantics all yearning:
keep your eye on the prize and use all your learning!

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