7days7authors

Monday - And We Haven’t the Time to Mince Words, We are Late for Dinner - David McGovern

In twos we would explore the
vices we knew.  Even in the darkest corners

on the dirtiest mattresses I

would still

get sunburned on my temples. On the balcony, drunk and in

my underwear, I spoke to my mother about

my second cousin (thrice removed?)

and his wife, my

co-worker.  In the morning, at work, at

my desk with the ghost of

brown bottles in my

second and third gag-reflexes (Jesus

was right, I’m not

a sword swallower) I was

bothered about the bearings of

marriages, cousins.  For the

second time (that really

sticks out) a woman called me

pale to my face (I know

all Irish are not this

rude).  Mr. Darnielle told me took
”Look up

at the high windows”.  Mr. Brady mentioned “This wasn’t

meant to be no sad song.”  After the remarks

I took my sandwich and headed

towards the lake and

the doorman with eyebrows as big
as Caterpillar mustache children.  Falling
asleep on the train I hoped you would

regain your appetite. I hoped
my contacts would

be unglued from my eye.  I

thought of

old friends.