Crashbox

Monday morning.
Could I ever love you?
When work is sweet
And faces sweeter
Perhaps...
I could love you.
Love you,
Monday,
Though from precious sleep
I have been too oft
Cheated.
But with grubby hands
A chilly wrench,
And steaming tea (Tea IS)
Spilling onto
Sluggish fingers
I return
To a pleasant place
Of grease
Old cars
And
An
Easy pace