Sunday Until It Isn't Hungary she is the most pagan of days her newspaper spread out on her prettiest lavender bed is already pummeled beaten back to pulp she has read every line twice she screams at the front page headline those damn hungarians are back at it again! they must be stopped! she howls yells madly like well you know everyone knows hungarians are too damn gregarious! all they want to do is have fun! Isn't there something we can do? he stirs his coffee with his finger 

 

stares at his finger the swirl pokes at the hole 

 

of his donut the other her cries out her louder heart wipes away years pent up wrenching tears for here outside her only window she sees

a coatless girl rocking side to side on a tired swing she following the sunniest of wings of bluebirds returning with her earliest tenderest spring JPPestana Sunday Until It Isn't Hungary 2.16.2022

JPPestana

Sunday Until It Isn't Hungary

2.16.2022