A Trap Door Poem by Brian Rihlmann

When the day
is nothing but
heavy limbs dragged
with deep sighs
through the mire
of routine,
and you think-

screw it.

I'll just quit this job,
run out the door,
break a long dry spell
and get hammered,
call my favorite hooker
and blow what's left
in the bank...

...and just thinking
about it,
makes you smile,
and muddle through.

Much like remembering
there's a gun
in the closet,
after an even worse day.