THURSDAY NIGHT SMILES

Saturday’s images
of laborious lamentations
swirls in my head.
It will come
far too soon
with a stress cocktail
that will be spiked
by the rancid
taste
of melancholy’s
liqueur.
I’ll consume it all
every last bitter
swallow
because
still numbs
my soul
to the nauseous
flavor,
which future sameness stirs.