Monday morning sonnet only talks about
Itself. Nothing else has happened. We restart
The week on Monday. Reset. Old news out.
It’s the horse that comes before the cart.
Giddyup, Monday! We can win this race!
Out of the starting block, never too soon
To set priorities. All things in place.
We aim for the sky and shoot for the moon.
Then comes that Tuesday cart. Now it seems
To drag nag Monday on down the road.
Wednesday we hold shiva for Monday dreams.
Dusting off the week then trying to goad
Ourselves to redeem the week just in time
For Saturday’s funeral on Friday’s dime.