A Month of Sundays
By Lisa Blunt Rochester
Wouldn’t you like
a month
of Sundays?
Just to listen
to Mozart or Monk;
a little jazz or funk.
Or hear cats doggiin’ dogs
and flies flirtin’ wid frogs.
How about a month
of Sundays?
Layin’ on dewey grass
messin’ up your perm.
Layin’ in his arms
catchin’ a little ssssp…you know what I mean.
Yeahhhh, a month
of Sundays.
No boss to break your stride
or take your pride.
No water cooler gossip
to trip your lips.
Or attitudy snooty people goin’ on trips.
Wow — a month
of Sundays.
Shoutin’ and singin’
in church.
Praisin’ the only One
who wouldn’t leave
you in a lurch.
Buyin’ one ticket to the movies
but stayin’ all day;
knowin’ it’s a month
of Sundays
and not stressin’ bout Monday.
Jack playin’, double dutchin’,
hangin’ wit the kids.
Not really doin’ nuttin’.
Just chillin’…
In a month of Sundays.
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