I was born on a Tuesday, so says my birth certificate
And to be precise, my Mom says, I breathed first at one in the afternoon
She says when God forced me out of her womb,
The lunch hour news signature tunes began intermittently
I’ve always had bad Tuesdays
And my mood swings… are always high then

Wednesdays are relaxed days for me
They are just a day to the beginning of a weekend
They only remind me of unfinished work ahead
And the unfulfilled dreams in my life

Thursdays, a day to the end of working days
Have always led me to make silly mistakes
From hosting girls at my house
When I’ve nothing to offer
But just interested in their flesh
The thought of an empty stomach
And a wide-opened pocket pulls me asunder

Fridays, the last day I thought I’d wake up early
Does not augur the end of a great weekend
It only brings about the memories of yesteryears
And the sinful nature I’ve lived all throughout the week
I only fear its end…
…for God’s wrath is waiting upon me

Saturdays…. My days of intercession
I’m holier than thou
Knowing very well HE’s closer than the rest of the times
Though omnipresent in nature
So on this day,
I’m literary unavailable

Sundays are just as boring
Apart from laundry….and televangelists
What more can I ask?
I just laze around making calls to whoever cares to be bothered

Mondays… the devil’s lair
There is nothing worse than meeting a charged boss on this day
After a lazy weekend, is there a respite for the second day of the week?

© mburu kamau