Questionable silences and cut-throat jobs that will leave you penniless and full of the cum of scumbags.
That falls under Thursdays.
Fridays will get you a vacation, but only if you secure a new job by Monday, which only leaves you a few hours, so technically you start tomorrow, on
Saturdays are clumsy and make your head swell like a cheap car’s air-bag.
Sunday never lets you sleep, and
Monday? Monday’s less of a day than a week pumped full of iron-fists and fishy pockets stained red and brown, and not so lucky yellow.
Switchblades are sharp and Ice-cubes are frozen.
The night is warm and the days are starry.
Harry, Charles, Paul, Montgomery.
Leo, Mo, Vince and Matteo.
The world is round and time is square,
Your answer’s Why? And Your question’s Where?