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The Brooklyn Rail

MARCH 2021

All Issues
MARCH 2021 Issue
Poetry A Tribute to Lewis Warsh

Days of the Week

For Lewis

Monday the crossword is easy
Tuesday begins with a “T”
Wednesday I get a bodega coffee and pay in quarters
Thursday I find three free books
Friday I get paid and order delivery
Saturday I stay in bed and forget to eat
Sunday I eat and cry
Monday the sun comes in hot through the window
Tuesday the heat is off and I can see my breath inside
Wednesday my toes never warm up
Thursday the line for the grocery store goes out the door and around the block
Friday I leave work feeling nothing at all
Saturday I think about love letters
Sunday I write a poem about wanting to write a love letter
Monday I do not write
Tuesday my period starts and I use toilet paper
Wednesday I go to the pharmacy and use self-checkout
Thursday I buy the newspaper but don’t read any of it
Friday might as well be Tuesday
Saturday the cats meow a lot
Sunday a bird lands on the fire escape – a rock dove
Monday I wear two masks
Tuesday I think a lot about how it feels to kiss someone
Wednesday I wake from a sex dream and cry
Thursday I wake again
Friday I wake again
Saturday I wake again, but later than the days before
Sunday I berate myself for being narrow and lazy
Monday I watch traffic and spill coffee on clean laundry
Tuesday feels endless
Wednesday everything seems annoying and useless
Thursday begins with a “T”
Friday I wake from a nightmare – I was shaking maggots out of my kitchen appliances and they squirmed
all over the counter and floor
Saturday I watch a lot of television
Sunday has the word “sun” in it
Monday I think about eggs a lot
Tuesday is the name of a day of the week
Wednesday the phone rings but I don’t know the number
Thursday I want to be married with children in the middle of nowhere
Friday I just want a loving family all my own
Saturday my wants and worries gather in my mouth and throat
Sunday I miss my friends like they’re dead
Monday I check my credit score
Tuesday my gums bleed when I floss
Wednesday there’s nothing in the mailbox


Sarah Anne Wallen

lives in Brooklyn and is the poet behind the collection Don’t Drink Poison (United Artists Books, 2015).


The Brooklyn Rail

MARCH 2021

All Issues