1
Sunday was ours
to celebrate
sloven
unencumbered
loose
we
the stubble faced man
our tangle headed clan
and
empty faced
grit legged me
it was early
and we were barely even awake
Sunday was ours
2
Spontaneous phone call
to the question
he muttered yes
sure
come on over
unpremeditated
I mouthed
no
he said too late
no food I whined
the last of our stash
was then thawed out
to please the makers of the
spontaneous phone call
3
Sunday was ruined
tainted with brooms in rooms
and trash baggery
the smell of rushed chemicals
surface sprayed in haste
work
actual labor
even the vacuum’s moaning oh
why the clan cried
do we have to work today
you said we could read
you said we could play
but no
Sunday was ruined
4
it’s almost time
quick hurry up
last of the dishes hidden
pillows fluffed
closets stuffed
clothes thrown over bones
fresh faces
fresh hair
fresh smelling underwear
smudge on deodorant
splash that toothpaste
on a brush do it right now
now and whip it through
your mouths because
it’s almost time
5
to the door
hello hi
our house is yours
oh this old thing
and those things too
oh thank you
you too
that’s not true
it’s so nice to have you
we’ve missed you so much
oh, you know all homes
need a good woman’s touch
we laugh
we eat we unwind
we roar
‘til goodbye leads us right back
to the door
6
Sunday was ours
*Author's note: this is an experimental poem, where the first line of every stanza is the same as the last. I have honestly never seen this done anywhere, so I don't know what to call it, and it just kind of 'wrote itself' during one of those awesome in-the-zone writing moments. Anyway, I think it came out really cool so here it is.
* * *
© M. Lee / All Rights Reserved
Comments (2)
Beautiful rhythm and format! Love the flow of words!! 💖 Love your poem! 💖
I feel you executed this format brilliantly! And the poems that write themselves are the best kind! I loved it!