SUNDAY POEM

SUNDAY POEM

just do not write
poems on Sunday

am largely out of body
have
no time for it

at least when
I have checked the calendar
am absolutely sure,
certain beyond
any reasonable doubt

this Sunday
is indeed a Sunday
(is what
I signed up for
both
   in terms of
religious doctrine and
the NFL)

having
  such reverence for this day
(its every scheduled sport and
     form
      of Sun worship)

that I
   kill my imagination temporarily
bank my quill, stymie my pen

rip every
keyboard
     out of its socket

nor would I wish to write
on day of judgement, rapture
or revelation

lest the very words themselves
realising their mortal sin
jump out of their skin

failing to
    find love or any
positive appraisal

doomed to greyzone
anonymity

neither succeeding not
failing

almost
      lost

almost saved