When you

Are three

Or four 

And maybe 

Even five 

Days are days

There is

No Tuesday  or 

Wednesday  

Or Thursday  

Or Saturday 

Or the delight 

Of a Friday 

Or the dread 

Of a Sunday 

Night 

But these 

Days

Named 

After things 

We no-longer know 

Or 

do

The space between

Them

Shortens 

The idea of them

Lengthens 

And yet

With fear 

And excitement 

They spin

Endlessly on

Regardless 

Thorough 

In their self importance 

Of the minute 

Neglectful 

Instantly 

Once they are 

Spent 

Knowing 

They will

Be back again 

Next week 

Whichever 

Way you 

Hoped

Your life 

Would 

Work 

Out