Wasted Wednesday(Poem)

I woke up late
after moving to and fro
from dreams into reality
like an auld pendulum
I cursed the Monday
for being too mundane
Yearned for a Sunday
and opened the day

Read Anton Chekhov plays
to allay Walt Whitman’s cliches
dallied downstairs to feed a cat
and dallied upstairs to mislead a bat
that ventured into my abode

Neighbor rang the bell
baying for something
what is it billy? I asked
Rocky is missing(His dog)
said the fucker
As-if-I-care voice

We began to gun down
stony lands
Hilly grasses
and we-never-knew-they-existed places
used lousy logics
un-settled philosophies
till I had a mini cardiac arrest

after holding his tongue for a long time
and polishing patience
kneeling down in khakis
on a mountain of remorse
billy burst—
breaking my quietude
“I think, I locked it
in the basement.”
was my response
before I drew a pocket knife
on this only-existing-to-suck-my-soul asshole

my little cousin is visiting us
so, I thought to save the trouble
to the young fellow by locking it in
sorry, Johnny.”
said the blue-eyed fucker
and ran into whatever shit-hole it was.

Next time
I would rather pretend or
actually die or
go to prison after butchering billy.

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