Saturday • Acrylic on Linen over Panel, 50” x 52”

You carry on your shoulders
the dense lead of the entire week:

leftovers, sweepings, stains.

What is crooked needs to be straightened,

what is soiled,
what has been overlooked,
what has a button missing

devolves onto you.

Saturday, you appear to me always gritty and brown,

offering stones to pick up,
pitted and ancient as your chore basket.

Perhaps you’re a fulcrum,
or even a concrete weir.
At night the flood will come and the spillway

breached by the wild river of the human.

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