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No Chance of SundayHugo Williams
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Vol. 28 No. 2 · 26 January 2006
Poem

No Chance of Sunday

Hugo Williams

210 words

I had an idea that would have made everything all right.
I outlined a case that was ‘screamingly funny’.
No chance of Sunday, I’m afraid. But wait, there may be.

I’ll never forget my face when I came home unexpectedly.
Little imitation things were spread out on the floor.
I had an idea that would have made everything all right.

Supposing something bad happened and I had to be unhappy?
Old people advised me to cup my hands like this.
No chance of Sunday, I’m afraid. But wait, there may be.

I was working on a plan to do a violence to somebody.
Peculiar stuff oozed from a crack in the wall.
I had an idea that would have made everything all right,

but my room barred entrance on itself. A piece of carpet
was jammed underneath the door. I forced it with my knee.
No chance of Sunday, I’m afraid. But wait, there may be.

When you lose someone at night you have to go back to bed.
I’d like to wake up, but I don’t really want to now.
I had an idea that would have made everything all right.
No chance of Sunday, I’m afraid. But wait, there may be.

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