Tuesday Fell
Tuesday fell into the ocean
Exhaust pronounced with blackened fumes
Her scissors arms cut through the quarts
That vitrified the verdigris blooms
And while she swam the taxi watched
Falstaffian laugh from the pagoda view
It made her feel like Sundays ruin
Distilled in the platitudinous pews
Overwrought in prosaic charms
Her Romanesque features sad dilute
Coughed between the liquid mounds
Aqua, Cerulean and baby blue
Free sanctuary from the staplers
Scheduled manners in eunuch Suits
Slaves all free in the pawn machines
Weekday mornings to the AM dirge
Now she becomes her own collage
While Wednesday's eats her own dog food
poem by Kevin Patrick
Added by Poetry Lover
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