Keep talking.
The kitchen has gentle
butchering knives.
“Today’s Sunday. I need to speak to you.”
Take Sunday back, then. Drown it!
Slaughter it!
Sunday is starving itself in a fit of tension;
leather skin begging for lotion.
Weak days have poor eating habits.
Anxious bellies roll,
tumbling rejection
around,
around.
Unsafe.
Unsound.
Un-Sunday, then keep talking!
Your speech has sharp fingertips,
jabbing at my spider webs,
my sticky, thick mesh.
Un-Sunday, then
cut jelly rolls,
tumble Sunday
around,
around.
Without rejection.
Safe.
Sound.
maggiemaeijustsaythis 
I have a complicated relationship with Sunday, so I really liked this.
Complicated is a good description. I like that.
May I rename this Monday? It was my Monday pouring into my Tuesday.
Yes. Rename it anything you like.
Wow, you really know how Sunday feels. Remember when we were in school and Monday was looming at the end of a weekend? I never could enjoy Sundays past 5:30 pm. But now I’ll look on the Sunday evening anxiety a bit more poetically. Thank you for sharing.
Ah-ha! There you are! You were working on a complex poem with the fatal words ‘I need to speak to you …’
Your use of all poetic tools is utterly awesome, MaggieMae – respect
Sunday – day of rest less.
“Keep talking.
The kitchen has gentle
butchering knives”
Oh that is awesome…
So very well done!
That first stanza–wow! Passive-aggressive claws galore…I love it.
The another poetic Miracle…….by Maggie…
Loved the Conflict and then the Compromise…
Beautifully done.
God Love You ♥
Put you up for the Liebster Award (http://stewpify.wordpress.com/2012/04/29/thanks/). I don’t even know if it’s an appropriate award for your work, but I did want to thank you for all of your writing. It is a gift.
🙂 I am so grateful, my friend! Thank you. And congratulations to you on the award! ❤
great poem. For me this is Saturday – which in Bangladesh where I live is what Sunday is for the West. You summed up the feelings well 🙂