without wasting it with work worries,
we wondered what we would do with it.
Racing to reach relatives in the rural reaches,
riding remembered road routes rather than rich railroads,
manifested in memories than marking a map,
restlessly resting for the rewards reaped right away.
Telephoned to tell tall tales to those talking twaddle,
creating confusion and commotion to close cousins,
constantly chatting of comprehensive current events.
We wasted time, surfing web wastelands,
watching and wasting with what time’s left.
Giving gratitude towards God’s gracious generosity,
grabbed garden-fresh groceries and got gluttonous goodies,
for Friday night’s family fun fiestas,
fixing fresh foods, frozen frosty fake-tails,
and family favorite flavorful foods.
As appetites ate,
downed double desserts.
drank delicious drinks,
Finding out firsthand, how our family’s feasted
on their deliciously diverse distinct dinners.
Together, they tackled the dirty dishes.
cleaning cooking centers and counter tops,
prior to resuming and returning
to performing private pitter-patter.
Men,
mostly meandered mechanically,
making magical myths come close to reenacting reality.
Women,
talked tirelessly and timelessly,
telling trashy tales throughout the night towards each other.
When waking on weekends, Saturdays, still sleepy
Hopelessly, hung-out, yet, having no hungover.
Offering a repeat rendezvous from Friday’s fiesta,
once again offering to frolick with family and friends.
Opening our home once again, even early,
for feasting on the fancy food to divine drinks
and pretending playing the piano perfectly.
Some sang sad songs and several sang silly songs,
many moved to music, likely, dirty dancing,
Curious children chased confident children,
round robin in a creatively carved,
large labyrinth outdoor obstacle course.
with wide white walls with no escaping exits,
just judges posed as pretentious peasants.
Somewhat surprisingly, still sleepy, Sunday wasn’t willing to sleep-in, yet smiling of
memories made with mindful moments, from Friday’s fiesta and Saturday’s repeat.
Sunday started somehow slowly, managed to make it to the gym,
engaged in exercise with endless energy, to train on TRX, to trick triceps and traps.
yet, came home crashed hopelessly needing to nap nearly until noon.
We created a chores chart for weekly work and to-do tasks,
classifying and cross off completed checklists.
Soaked, sprayed, scrubbed, cleaned china, cups, cabinets and closets,
dusted dining room table, washed windows and more.
With weekly chores completed, endless errands eagerly emerged,
everywhere and elsewhere,
shopped sales at superstores, gourmet goodies at grocery giants.
While we walked in Wal-mart, we watched women,
cutting countless cheap clipless coupons,
conversely, conquered Costco, where men mingled,
downed a donut, dropped dry-cleaning,
picked-up prescriptions, pre-paid postage and
washed Wranglers, whites, workout and work wares.
Cheerfully came home,
put products into proper places,
she created a new cap for Chris,
crafted in crochet.
I painted a pastel portrait
of Pat’s pet, Prince
in offering,
an open gift of our friendship.
Later,
visited Victor,
Veronica and kids, Van and Vilma,
the table taunted,
tempting tasty treats,
to testing terrible tales through the
truth telemeter,
today.
Took mass transit, returning to our townhome,
then turned in for the night, tried tuning in the tv,
resetting receivers, reviewed the recorded;
repeats of rom-coms and the re-runs on retro-TV.
Taking time for leftovers, for a late lunch or,
maybe more like an early dinner for us both,
was reheated repeat of yesterday’s dinner.
Saturday seemed to surpass by supersonic speed,
Sunday somehow snoozed passed somewhere near seven,
Saturday and Sunday blended becoming one day.
Only offered ordinary weekends off work,
with a few holidays added for good measure,
begging and bargaining but dropping on deaf ears,
then they tried trading those terrible dreaded days.
Not just the days determined by,
corporate company calendars and
workers within white walled offices,
who never needed to work whole weekends,
nor any days ending in ‘y’,
but by bold, beautiful bodies breaking
molds of imminent members of
training tomorrow’s model management.
Started, simply smiling to annoy anyone,
surprising some and entertaining everyone,
we made them all wonder why we wasted weekends,
doing dances to difficult diverse diversions.
While we wistfully, whistled and waltzed wickedly,
with any and all weekend activities,
while we wandered, we wondered, why all weekends
and vacations vanished within the vast vacuum.
Rather than ruminating through rustling rubbish of
worthless whirlwind of worries and weariness of work
but carelessly choosing to practice playing plenty.
If it’s five o’clock Friday, with days, ending in ‘y’,
Then it must mean all these days have become new Fridays,
With the win, we’re no longer just weekend warriors.
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