If the sine of the cosine of waking up at 6:30 am
is equal to
the percent of sun now above the horizon,
then Monday morning has begun.
From A block to B block
to C block to D block,
you must metamorphose.
dot your i’s in English,
eye your dots in art,
take notes on a cello,
and write an essay from the heart –
wait! not that heart of course,
not the one that pulses,
warm and bloody,
that nothing matters –
solid, liquid, or gas,
because you’re the Sun King,
and the hallway is Versailles,
even when the water fountains are all
like the corpus callosum,
that connects right and left hemispheres of your brain.
His brain. Her brain.
We’re all a-brained on Monday morning.
Just live in the present (perfect) hominid.