Thursday Poem

The Man Who Was Thursday

…….. —after G.K. Chesterton

fell in love
with a girl
who was Saturday

She fell in love
with his falling
in love with her

Saturday boobs and her
Saturday laugh and her
Saturday way of not caring

that he was Thursday
because she liked
for the moment

his Thursday glasses and
his Thursday bedtime and
his Thursday-sized salary

that he spent on her
until she almost loved
Thursdays. That and

he was so nearly Friday
that sometimes she would
forget that he would never

have cocky certainty
or casual wear
or pizza nights,

and sometimes he would
forget, too, and they
were happiest then.

by Christopher Curry
from Rattle #46, Winter 2014