The Elasticated Month

January,

It is more than a month

It stretches out

Behind and beyond

Never ending

An elasticated, elongated,

Barely venerated

Un-plugged

Double bass

Of a month.

A de-tuned

Twelve string,

Without the twang.

It falls like guillotine

With a clang,

Cutting into

The festivities,

To leave us sliced and diced.

With empty pockets,

And bills to pay.

And a salary

That whatever you do, or say,

Somehow, will never stretch

All that way.

The days seem to drag by,

Whether wet, or dry,

It is dark and surreal,

Summer, was so long ago

Even the memories

Don’t seem real.

A life sentence,

Easier to stomach

Than a jail term.

You only serve

Half of that,

And get out

With good behaviour,

Please, February,

Do me a favour,

I need your

Four weeks

To be my saviour.