has Friday become a dreaded yet welcome oxymoron– the end of the week but an entry to the weekend where once, after work hours of happiness clinking glasses full of endings and beginnings now are more work than mondays that make one want to go home and crawl into a hole?
Nerds Beget Nerds 
I love how your poem looks like it was falling into a hole! Very clever!
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Thanks, I didn’t mean for it to happen that way, but once the words took over, I let them play.
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I love your word choice in this poem–what you say, what you leave out, the sparse details that somehow say it all.
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I almost added more details, but decided to leave out what I used to do on Friday nights. Honestly, I was too tired, but it seems to have worked out.
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