On Monday we pinch pennies,
For good luck at the store.
Wishes rest, pebbles piled
up in the cemetery,
On top of tombstones.
Tuesday and Wednesday
come like a midnight freight train.
Cacophony belts on, the tracks
shake the roof,
splintering the bones of our home.
I rest in the cradle of arms.
Only for this Thursday,
I tangle with wisteria. She
gloriously punishes every-
one with waking sleep.
Now,
water flows in red and orange
supermoons of a synthetic design.
Come time Friday, clocks of day
run amok, like monsters.
The porch light sings,
it’s time to go home.
Don’t forget to
kiss our children good
mourning and at night
spider mums wither in a vase
at the foot of the bed
in the fields of their lullaby.
Did you know you can buy guns in supermarkets?
They did too.
Victoria Wan, ’25