It's never going to stop
being Friday
The Birth of Sacraments
is not Good.
Autumn is Friday's punch
in the gut of Summer It's
always Friday. The windblown
faded days are a trampled
graveyard.
Today is Friday and if I shovel
the fake faded Forrest of time
it is always Friday. The perennial
glare of a Gregorian mistake.
Christ died for me on a
Friday!
Illusions of time passing are
like
Prayers
blown back
on a Friday.
Today tears the pages off. You
flip it over.
Friday appears as oil from
the flood.
Caroline Shank
9.2.2022
Sep 2, 2022
Sep 2, 2022 at 12:57 PM UTC
It's never going to stop
being Friday
The Birth of Sacraments
is not Good.
Autumn is Friday's punch
in the gut of Summer It's
always Friday. The windblown
faded days are a trampled
graveyard.
Today is Friday and if I shovel
the fake faded Forrest of time
it is always Friday. The perennial
glare of a Gregorian mistake.
Christ died for me on a
Friday!
Illusions of time passing are
like
Prayers
blown back
on a Friday.
Today tears the pages off. You
flip it over.
Friday appears as oil from
the flood.
Caroline Shank
9.2.2022
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