Calendar

Squares of days easily thrown away
Ripped out, shredded every new day
Turning the page making a large X with no delay
Closer creeps the weekend
With time that I can spend
With a dream that it will never end
But then comes the Monday X
When I escape for Tex-Mex
Or wonder if I can work a hex
On phones to make them stop
Customers to make them drop
In a deadly heap, on top of which, I’ll hop
But more days to come and nothing to do
But tear out the day and rue the time when I’ll be through
No money, and no one thickheadedly hovering
So I make my large X and see time passing
Wondering what the next calendar will bring
A bright new corner or a loud death ring
Is it knell? I can no longer tell.
Too many X’s, too much of a daze
My mind has stopped, surrounding vacuity crazed
That I’ve survived this long has me amazed