Sunday has no value to me
as a day off
but, if I had Sunday off
I would start going to church
for the company.
I would go to the church with
rainbow lawn chairs lined up
outside. An upside-down cross
big above the door.
Walking distance.
Where there gathers,
I fear,
the same old collection
of fearless adults.
I’m scared of you,
anyway.
I’d like to get away.
Once a week -
of course the job does that
most days -
not on Sunday.
I sent my head into the ground.
If I met before a congregation
they would forgive me
for making a concussion
of my evening.
Sunday has no value to me.
Let it be
a day of work.
But, I would go to church.
Sit in the back.
Jul 17, 2025
Jul 17, 2025 at 5:02 PM UTC
Sunday has no value to me
as a day off
but, if I had Sunday off
I would start going to church
for the company.
I would go to the church with
rainbow lawn chairs lined up
outside. An upside-down cross
big above the door.
Walking distance.
Where there gathers,
I fear,
the same old collection
of fearless adults.
I’m scared of you,
anyway.
I’d like to get away.
Once a week -
of course the job does that
most days -
not on Sunday.
I sent my head into the ground.
If I met before a congregation
they would forgive me
for making a concussion
of my evening.
Sunday has no value to me.
Let it be
a day of work.
But, I would go to church.
Sit in the back.
from november 20, 2023
poem from the past a day #59
every part of this explains itself except for the fact that it speaks to the same person that the previous poem did.
i think it's just a cute and vulnerable thought so i'm glad i made a poem out of these sparse feelings.
