the soundtrack
is stuck on a loop
the birds sing
the same melody
a dischordiant
seven note dirge
for the sleepy sun
an agitation of
fluttering noise
a sonic distortion
tearing through my
papermache skull
impregnating the
nascent day with
cantankerous wails

today is
a tuesday
of that there can be
little doubt
i long to sleep
until thursday
find myself
approaching
the weekend
rather than
being beaten
into submission
by seven looping notes