The Weekend

Poetry by | November 24, 2013

It seems like a lifetime
ago since I last had
the weekend all to myself.
And that includes every
Friday afternoon that went

unspent on cheap spirits,
and strangely riotous porn.
Instead, there is always
work. These days,
there is always work,

or a phone call, or a lover.
It seems like I have grown
heavier since I last enjoyed
dinner, or excessive
sleep, or a lonesome run

in the morning. Only
the alarm clock keeps
me quick on my feet
these days. Even when
I wake up on the wrong

side of the bed, I roll
out with enough patient
alertness. There are
absences I have yet
to offset as always._

Allen Samsuya is a creative writing major from the University of the Philippines Mindanao. He is not a porn star, yet.

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