Whichever way the weekend blows, it can only be better than the week.
O’ Come Weekend
O’, come weekend, come on soon
the week’s been hell, been like a bassoon
played off-key and played next to my ear,
or a pipe clattering, trying to get clear
of the air trapped inside when the taps turned on
whopping and whopping like a bad song.
O’, come weekend, come on soon
the week’s been hell, been like a baboon
locked in a small cage, tossing poop and food
flashing its teeth – O’ it’s been in a mood.
So come on weekend, get your ass here.
I’ve had more than I can take. Am I being clear?!
–Photo and poem by David E. Booker
Booker's Blog 