The difference between my days
is the night.
And on that thought, let us begin!

I have lists of things to do:
Monday made a box of “take the suit to the drycleaner’s”
and Tuesday ticked it –
Wednesday picked up the suit that Thursday wore
and Friday… don’t even start about Friday’s boxes to tick.

I shuffle the tarot deck of business cards till they’re in Order;
I am Video God, St. Stationary & in Her Majesty’s Seeeeecrrret Seeeerrrvice,
with a license to kill and a few software licences to boot –
I’ll take you to the fucking cleaners, alright…

Snap pictures and photoshop you out:
unspilling salt from the wound!
And go for broke like it’s all I know:
steal wisdom off the lips of Page 3 girls,
craft minor happinesses off of paltry victories,
folding origami out of Dear John’s just ‘cause I can
and think of [This content has been removed by decree of the Brighter Futures, Inc., dedicated to Your Welfare and Mine in all events and scenarios, sub-contractor to the State. If it’s of any concern, it wasn’t all that interesting, anyway. All inquiries as to the nature of the removed content are to be directed to the Ministry of Meaning of Life. We guarantee answers but not the Right Ones. Boy, I really should know when to quit, shouldn’t I? Enough of that, thank you, remain safe.] in the break room
just ‘cause they say I can’t.