avatarMark Tulin

Summary

The poem "Then Monday Came" reflects on the melancholy and routine drudgery often associated with the start of a new workweek, contrasting it with the desire for an endless weekend.

Abstract

"Then Monday Came" is a contemplative piece that captures the universal sentiment of dread and monotony that often accompanies the beginning of the week. The speaker, faced with partly cloudy skies and the prospect of disappointment, laments the early morning and the slow pace of the day ahead. Despite past accomplishments, the speaker feels that nothing is ever sufficient on a Monday. The poem questions the societal norm of a five-day workweek, yearning for a "perpetual weekend" that would extend the freedom and comfort of the days off. The author, Mark Tulin, acknowledges the uncertainty of how each week will unfold, with the daily routine symbolized by black coffee and the relentless cycle of work. The poem concludes with a nod to Lucy Dan 蛋小姐 for her "Monday Prompt" and an invitation to join Medium through Tulin's referral link.

Opinions

  • The speaker expresses a dislike for Mondays, viewing them as a time of unmet expectations and disappointment.
  • There is a clear wish for a different work-life balance, one that favors leisure and personal freedom over the traditional workweek structure.
  • The poem suggests that the start of the week brings about a sense of being immediately behind in one's tasks, contributing to a feeling of being overwhelmed.
  • The author uses the weather and the morning routine as metaphors for the emotional state often experienced at the beginning of the week.
  • Gratitude is shown towards Lucy Dan 蛋小姐 for inspiring the piece through her "Monday Prompt."
  • Mark Tulin invites readers to engage further with his work by joining Medium, indicating a desire to connect with his audience and share more of his writing.

Then Monday Came

And there’s no guarantee

Photo by PublicDomainPictures on Pixabay

The weather woman says it’s partly cloudy with a chance of disappointment. The man on the corner sells the morning paper — more bad news. I wish I hadn’t gotten up so early. Now I’ll move through the day at half speed.

No matter what I’ve accomplished — it’s never good enough on Monday. Why do we rotate our days? Why can’t we have a perpetual weekend, to allow our freedom to linger, and keep everything the same?

There’s no guarantee how the week will begin— clocking in and going home, a daily grind of black coffee, a week’s worth of work on a spinning wheel, and I’m already behind.

Many thanks to Lucy Dan 蛋小姐 (she/her/她) for her Monday Prompt.

© 2021 Mark Tulin

Here’s another poem by Mark Tulin:

Poetry
Poetry Prompt Response
Mondays
Work
Satire
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