Monday Morning Poem by Margaret Alice

Early Monday morning, wishing I were still in bed,
or alternatively, wishing I were already dead, but
here at my desk I don’t want to be, somehow it
seems to me that there must be another life, a
different kind of existence in another universe,
that is more fulfilling than this trajectory between
home and office, between mental storeys in my
mind, right now I’m on level subzero and falling;
desperately casting around for uplifting messages
to make my mental lift ascend to level one or higher
if I can, Monday mornings is a device to torture
unchristian souls like mine into believing in the
fires of hell and the sorrows of Purgatory, here I
am, dumbstruck by the enormity of living life on
planet earth and stuck in mental phases that
fade in nether regions of the black dimensions
down below sub-zero…