Paeans - and Aches

over the years

Friday, January 01, 1999

Sundays

All week, there’s work to do
Masks to be worn
People demanding your minutes and your hours
There’s coffee to be drunk
And deadlines
I can even work Saturdays
Or drink myself silly and sleep
So many things to keep you away
But Sundays, what do I do with Sundays?

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