Dripping weekend wrist marks
Dance in the happy rain
Booming base and bleeding
Let it rush down your face
Feel it trickle down your tights
It’ll all be over now.

Thursday you've finally arrived
Work is over and I'm ready to imbibe

You've become my favorite day of week
Most of my jobs done and giving Saturday a wink

Late enough in the week to relax a little more
While Friday's shadow lurks closely under the door

Early enough to fantasize about Sunday
Yet still so far away from Monday

Pour me a glass, or two or three
Unplug my brain and help me let it be

Since I only have one more day of work
Will one more hour really hurt?

So sweet Thursday you may not be part of the weekend
But since the quarantine, it's upon you I've come to depend

To the average working stiff
the mouth feel of Saturday
always popped and fizzed

a day to get on with the business
of being
without being defined by your business
(shout out to all in retail and shift work
your heartache is saved for other verse)

This Saturday has come
with revised terms and conditions
that seem to have rather stunted
the former purpose
like a PC revision
gutting all the cheeky dirt
for contemporary sensibilities

Fine, but understand
that from behind closed doors
a million folk are figuring
how to **** about in a myriad
of new ways

Ye can take our pubs,
but ye cannae take
our shenanigans!

Tempted Significance.

Zero moments did I say wait.
As for the forsaken channel decided to be draped.
In electric blue.
Only to be draped back into clouds.
Passing foothold on lonely function.
& twisted return in waves.
Lay shy in the face.
A cryptic respite.
Embraced by the wolves in the atmos.
Of all self being.
Self too clear for comfort.
& too silent for silence.



Garrett Johnson.

Dear diary;
At last,
it is Friday
and now I want
to make bad decisions
that I can survive.

I parked in her
          At the weekend.

But this time, I noted that
Some one had grit salted
    The other parking spot.

This place was getting over
used and double parked.
      And I wasn't sharing.

Who knows how many
   Times they parked in
                  My spot.

So I never parked in
                    Her again.

Drunk again
on a Saturday night,
reminiscing about the
memories of a life I thought
I had forgotten
long ago.