(20 minute poetry)

Stand clear Monday's here and no prisoners will be taken.

I'm running scared
in third class
because the system
Is still in place,

all along the platform lined up instead of in freeform
are today's commuters,
baristas, solicitors, chancers and sharp operators,
they wait the same as I
under the weeping willow sky.

If this is the 'last chance saloon'
and the tube train's arriving soon
I'll have a double.

Monday's still here or it was,
not sure now because my eyes
are shut
but I think that it might be
still
able to see me.

For a brief moment
I thought
the screeching I could hear was
my brain jumping a gear
but it's the brakes on the train,
listen,
it's doing it again.

and again it's almost done,
I've used up my tiny portion
if such fun is dealt that way

Darling, Monday
is still here like a
milk bottle on the window sill
dear,
waiting for my corn flakes.