Every other day


Even before the first veining rays
Find their ways
through the struggling, stretching Morning trees
I despise Mondays.
The yawning sounds of the morning wheeze,
the window breeze
Pours its way uninvited into my bedroom.
As I begin my day,
like every other day, breaking down in the womb of blankets wrapped around me,
preparing for labor,
I savor the thought, like every other day,
of the time when all this toil will get me to the highest seat in the company.
Only to be shaken up by the 15th snooze.
I get prepared to hang my noose
Over the usual loose white collar and sleeves,
But with nice polka dots this time.
Like every other day,
I race down the staircase with an empty stomach
And deface my shoes by crushing the swarm of dead insects on the floor
Just like every other night,
these insects fly into the gate lights near the door
Burning themselves over and over thinking they’ll reach the moon.
Silly creatures.

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