On this world pasta day, or mincemeat eve,
I find I’ve missed bologna day and I grieve
forgetting to celebrate that day of all days.
On sister’s day, crying for what I never had,
I thought of my step-sisters and really felt bad
for relationships lasting just handfuls of days.
I’ve so tired of constant commemoration
of fill-in-the-blank month/days across the nation;
I’d like a holiday from monthly holidays.