You are the elixir
of overworked men
a companion
for lonely souls
and a boxing ring
for the fighting spirit
Your camaraderie
leads to immediate
regret
but such pain
forces peace
in the new day

Smoke lingers from every corner of the street
A sad man leans on the side of a closed barbershop
Rustic silver bars hold up the stumbling drunks
The man thinks to himself
"a sad sober man is just as pathetic as a careless drunken man"

I would scorch the end of the cork
and score bags under my eyes
if the black of my tired spleen
was not already weighing

Like the luggage of the ******
packed in haste, always in haste
so that essentials are oft forgot
like health, or peace, or dignity

As it is, the cork stays unburnt,
but out of the bottle
as a gentle “**** the lot of you.”

Dear Saturday,  I write to you from foreign lands
I'm in a Monday I'm not sure I understand
The day is shining, yet I am in misery
All these strange people seem to be yelling at me

Oh, dearest Saturday, your ways are now my own
You hold me close in bed and say I can stay home
The other the days just seem to get in the way
The only mutual friend I seem to have's Friday

Dear Friday, you introduced me to my love
Out and about we where, trying to rise above
Monday through Thursday called me friend, bit caused me strife
But you showed me the day that would improve my life

Dear Saturday,  the way you treat me oh, so well
Has shown me heaven in a week filled with hell
I will hang onto Monday only for so long
But I'll miss you more than ever simply when you're gone

I have known
no loneliness
like that of
a Saturday night.