TIME WAS

saturdays
were
hungover
laying 
around
militantly alone
fighting the mercury
shakes
and guilt
with
eggs
and juice
maybe
beer or stronger
and
codeine
and
a
little weed
till i
managed
to shop
for
gin and steaks and spice
to
put
me back together 

these saturdays
i lay 
around
sober
my head
on a 
sweet womans
cotton belly
my
hands
deep in the fur
of
the
worlds
softest
cat
thinking
about
the other saturdays
and
the white rage
now
gone