So this is Tuesday.

Hello, Tuesday....

You're gonna be Tuesday no matter what,

No matter how much we might protest,

So do it to us, Tuesday, you ol' sneaker, you.

Go ahead, do it to us all!

Another court room verdict—

Winners, losers, system users.

Another rain on flooded rivers—

Extra bushels, excess stresses.

A few cold coins in a small Calcutta palm.

A newborn calf on hot Saharan sand.

Climbers, weepers, chronic sleepers.

Some Fs, some As. Some incompletes.

A grand Alaskan cruise.

A New York subway ride.

An artist’s first stroke on canvass.

A soldier's last explosion.

A glass ceiling. A broken fence.

A first orgasm. A last one.

A final goodbye. An open door.

Furtive glances, unseen chances.

Tuesday, Tuesday, Tuesday...

You’ll marry a Tulsa twosome,

Widow a Wichita woman,

Spare a tribal child in battle,

And have your way with

Stocks and lotteries and

Sunshine and schedules and

Certificates of death and birth and

Coupons for the bread lines and

Miners trapped in darkness—

And people trapped in darkness.

You'll show some the light

And toy with others in the night.

Tuesday, Tuesday, Tuesday!

You’ll damn a hasty fisherman

Off the coast of icy Greenland,

Then bless a lucky girl in Kathmandu

Ere the sun clears Everest.

You’re here to do it to us all:

The favored ones who need you,

The luckless ones who’ll rue you.

You’ll insist, and you won’t be late.

No one ducks deliveries

Borne of a Tuesday’s timeless rote.

So go ahead.

Assign the furrowed brows,

Deliver the happy squeals.

But satisfy my urge to know,

Have you a careful plan,

Or is it strictly random fate?

So do it to us, Tuesday,

You ol' sneaker, you.

Do it to us all!

We know you’re never late.

You never take a break.

We’re ready for you now.

There’s nothing we can do.

You ol’ sneaker, you!

                        —Larry Hallock