I Wish Mondays were Dead

I want to pass on from this daily coil
to the heavens
where Netflix never asks “if I’m still watching,”
because we both know I am
and I can access my digital wares
without worry of disconnection.
We’ll one day pass from this banality
where I am only concerned with the bottom line
and only the most basic availability
are all I can offer and all that is offered to me.
I’m exhausted, honestly, from striving to achieve the sub-par.
I’m ready for the next life
of comforter pillows and oversized pizza boxes.
There, by my tomb, we can heat up hot pockets and hope for the best.


There was always worry in his eyes
it’s what drew me to him
I can relate with not knowing
the kind of shit this world can bring
but he took it in like everything else
it wasn’t regal, it wasn’t proud
but it was his, and that’s all that mattered.

We all agreed he looked ridiculous in that dress
I think that’s why you kept it on
and we all snickered when you found another kitten
but we never questioned your love
why would we?
He wore a dress for god sakes
they all did.
I’m not a monster, I’m not a psychopath.
Cats in dresses are hilarious.

Though his look seemed scornful
He was pleasant to his kind
Though he was unsuccessful in love
and maybe his aim was off
he managed to pass something else along
a smile, a disjointed chuckle;
for a moment we forgot where we were
our eyes lingered on a puff of white fluff
who wore a jersey
and sometimes a dress