By Joshua Robert Long

I wake up
every Friday
and walk into the

joints all stiff
and the walls
like myself
feel less of the
youth as we
meander through
the coffees and

there’s always a fear
about the bank

a fear of who’s taking what

I talk in my head
to the debt

it worries me
like a relief pitcher

* * *

Saturdays don’t feel
very different from

except that there’s exhaustion
coming out through
the hydrants

another night to rest
the head

Sunday all vacant

we’re all pretty vacant
until Sunday