Upon a Tuesday afternoon

Of otherwise no note:

A ray of sun, a joyful boon –

The sweetest antidote!

Hello, Matilda! Greetings, Lance!

I wish I’d see you more.

It feels as though a vast expanse

Divides this seventh floor.

And how could I forget (my word!)

The moment’s honoree?

Annette, I hope your forty-third

Is full of festive glee!

At last, the cake; the luscious fix

For which we gather here.

A slice for all; no cruel tricks

To prompt a yearning tear.

A sigh, a smile, a little bit

Of bliss amid the bleak.

But do we have to do this shit

Like, every fucking week?

***