Thursday arrives in a plain brown cardboard box,
And postage due.
I bring it inside--
(I subscribe to these days of the week,
Also to Redbook, Curve, Time, and The Star.)
I open the box and lift Thursday out of its nest of little styrofoam peanuts.
My dog barks at it,
And tries to herd it into a corner of the kitchen.
"Are you already fed up with the work week?"
I chew my fingernail and nod.
"Do you wish it was the weekend?"
I give Thursday my brightest smile.
"Well it isn't, and you have to work today. Not only that, but it isn't even Friday yet."
With a cry, the dog and I both lunge for Thursday,
Intending to do murder right there next to the dishwasher,
But Thursday jumps into a nearby calendar and hides.
The dog and I look at each other.
We will be having to deal with Thursday all day long.
The dog pees on the tile.
I bang my head against the cupboard doors.