Let There Be Weekend!

Oh, to let the sun in through the brick
to let it munch on fog
to see the Pru in its entirety,
This is too much for a January day,
for Thursday in Boston!

The air dies wet on the skin of our faces
The light drops heavy at 3:30
While cold and unwound.
It's too too solid in my plush chair
I'm too unsteady for an Early Thursday.

The dark spot on the top
the darker streak on the bottom
like the aqua guidelines for pagination
Nudge me to snap-to destinations.
They point me home when it's dark at 6:00.

Unverbed gerunds that go here
are meant to break the monotonous The
They displace the lines to weigh the balance,
to make a statement about statements
to focus the eye on the the Un.

What you eat is what you are;
I do not eat, but drink.
The clocks' disparate readings fogged the morning
Is it seven, or eight or some-thirty?
Is it already over, this second Thursday?