[lit-ideas] Re: Sunday, Sunday [poem]
- From: "Erin Holder" <erin.holder@xxxxxxxxxxx>
- To: <lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
- Date: Sun, 22 May 2005 16:36:39 -0400
He wouldn't dare.
:)
Erin
TO
----- Original Message -----
From: Stan Spiegel
To: lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Sent: Sunday, May 22, 2005 4:33 PM
Subject: [lit-ideas] Re: Sunday, Sunday [poem]
Hey Mike -
No analysis please!
Stan Spiegel
Portland, Maine
----- Original Message -----
From: "Mike Geary" <atlas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
To: <lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
Sent: Sunday, May 22, 2005 4:01 PM
Subject: [lit-ideas] Re: Sunday, Sunday [poem]
> Musical, magical, emotion laden. Pure poetry. Thank you, I love it.
>
> Remember: if you want to make God laugh, just tell him your plans.
>
> Mike Geary
> Memphis -- the strongest argument against Intelligent Design.
>
>
> ----- Original Message -----
> From: "Erin Holder" <erin.holder@xxxxxxxxxxx>
> To: <lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
> Sent: Sunday, May 22, 2005 1:51 AM
> Subject: [lit-ideas] Sunday, Sunday [poem]
>
>
> > She hung up her sundress that non-sunny Sunday,
> > glared at the books and said, look,
> > you want this.
> > She had everything in order.
> > She ordered a beer that last sunny Monday,
> > burried the books and said, hell,
> > I'll drink what I want.
> > There went her best laid plans.
> > She planned to regroup that next rueful Tuesday,
> > shook her head yes and said, no,
> > I just can't.
> > Two was the hour she begged him to call,
> > early Wedesday morning.
> > Trapped in the moment,
> > worn pale and spent,
> > out cold on the hard wooden floor.
> > That's where she later woke broke.
> > Broken she breakfasted midday,
> > dirty and parched, coffee and eggs,
> > slipping inside a new disarray.
> > It's only another year, with a sigh.
> > Sighing and swiveling nine to five Thursday,
> > around and around, around and around,
> > around and around, around and around,
> > around and around, around and around,
> > she wandered in circles on Friday.
> > Fiegned perk, forced a smile,
> > at the prospect of self-declared,
> > much deserved leisure.
> > They all ask her, what is the rush?
> > Rushing she swallowd and choked on the boredom,
> > sitting on Saturday,
> > sitting and twiddling,
> > hung up her sundress that non-sunny Sunday,
> > glared at the books and said, look,
> > you want this.
> > She had everything in order.
> > Erin
> > TO
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