Monday, 12 March 2012


Lots of people don't like Mondays. I love them now. But I didn't in 1991


I remember waking up.
I didn't really get a hangover then.
I was young and full of fear.
That's why I would be sick.
I know that now.
Every morning, sick.
Switching on the stereo.
Listening to something dour,
like 'Heartland' by U2.
Setting the tone for my week.
Marvin and Smokey,
placed on the back burner
for the next fifteen years.
And it always seemed to be raining.
The blond in my bed, beautiful
but we're so wrong together.
Probably not speaking.
I slouch on to a bus
and never run for the train.
'I Travel', in my ears.
The final few paces.
Then up the stairs
and the beginning to a series
of ten countdowns,
to the mini relief
of lunchtime and home time.
All the way to Friday.
To oblivion, destruction.
Kidding myself, I'm not alone.

© Paul David Hogan 2012

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