Day 22: The days

Today’s prompt is to write a poem using repetition. Who knew it would turn out so depressing!

The days and day-old
cups accumulate. Stain.
Make rings like tinnitus.

The days and day-old
calendar turn stale—
crumb into lost appointments,

lodging like days and day-old
pain inside the teeth.
Wired and grinding.

The days and day-old
grime hum to the song
of mournful floorboards.

The days and day-old
thoughts crumble in pockets
of dirty laundry, set to dissolve

the days and day-old
jottings, blue words caught
in the throat of the lint trap.

The days, the day-old
hours crawling to bed.
The young ones tired of dawning.


  1. Romana Iorga · April 22

    Ooh, “blue words caught / in the throat of the lint trap.” Such an indelible image.💜🍃


  2. abigfatcanofworms · April 22

    Sounds like this school holidays! Monotony beautifully captured!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Sonia Dogra · April 22

    Lovely words to denote life’s everyday cycle. Beautifully captured.


  4. Montaffera · April 23

    I love these images you conjure: tinnitus tea stains and a li(n)tany of logged loquacity, lodged 🙂


  5. Manja Maksimovič · April 23

    Pretty devastating, especially the last line. So young and tired of dawning already. Makes me wish to weep for them.


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