Day Twenty-Six: ‘Weekend’

April 26, 2013

A weekend is a freckle on a cheek,

a constellation down the nose, a waterfall

of hair straight down the back. An itch that won’t

quit. A sleep outside on porches and

rank docks with fatherly stars kissing goodnight.

A power outage in the raging heat.

Three years that zip marauding as dark droogs

past memory and fond recollection

to steal. The bottle prices up a dollar,

the music cringeworthy, the faucet leaking

scents you’ll never shake – the twist of heartbreak

in a daze of teenage mock heroics.

I’d drink the lot again and balk at consequence

the way time permits for a mere freckle.



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