Thursday, August 09, 2007

'Twas me and Sunday melancholy

'Twas me and Sunday melancholy sitting on the porch, gazing at grazing rabble. They had questions, lots of them.

"Should I hold it or sell it?"

"Grade me, recognize me, am I worthy?"

"Why do I see nothing when I look up?"

"Contestant one is cute, but contestant two can sing - who should I vote for?"

'Twas me and Sunday melancholy sitting on the porch, unmoved, watching them sink.

"Should I hold or sell?"

"What's the best way to ensure financial security in the afterlife?"

"Can I take it with me? All of it?"

"Where can I get my virgins?"

'Twas me and Sunday melancholy, wondering when the plumber will arrive.

Monday, perhaps? Maybe Tuesday?

With water up to the waist, time dissipates. All may be at an end.

"Fiduciary, ya douche!" A majestic voice bellows then sinks into oblivion. Ah, salvation, how bittersweet.