I don't write Saturday nights
except when Friday has slipped away
without a word, without a backward glance,
no witness to its existence except that
Saturday arrived with the sunrise, so
Friday must have existed.
I remember it now, yesterday, a long
embrace for a friend, awestruck moments
in a movie theatre that James Brown
survived his upbringing and became
a star, awe inspiring for those who suffer.
I remember Friday, I was at work pondering
how I get these projects with no answers,
and how they haunt me at night
sometimes, even causing Friday nights
to slip away unspoken, words only
arising on Saturdays when I never
write except tonight.
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