My favorite Saturday poem

September 23, 2006

I promised this wouldn’t be a poetry blog, b/c I think people who write blogs about writing poetry are kind of obnoxious and probably ruining all of their poems, but I don’t see any reason why not to share someone else’s finished poem every now and again. So here is one I’ve been reciting to myself ever since my high school poetry teacher Jack Driscoll introduced me to it.

On A Seven-Day Diary

Oh I got up and went to work
and worked and came back home
and ate and talked and went to sleep.
Then I got up and went to work
and worked and came back home
from work and ate and slept.
Then I got up and went to work
and worked and came back home
and ate and watched a show and slept.
Then I got up and went to work
and worked and came back home
and ate steak and went to sleep.
Then I got up and went to work
and worked and came back home
and ate and fucked and went to sleep.
Then it was Saturday, Saturday, Saturday!
Love must be the reason for the week!
We went shopping! I saw clouds!
The children explained everything!
I could talk about the main thing!
What did I drink on Saturday night
that lost the first, best half of Sunday?
The last half wasn’t worth this “word.”
Then I got up and went to work
and worked and came back home
from work and ate and went to sleep,
refreshed but tired by the weekend.

–Alan Dugan

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One Response to “My favorite Saturday poem”


  1. This is my first ever blog so forgive me if I don’t know what I’m doing. Finding this poem, “On a Seven-Day Diary” by Alan Dugan on your site was so compelling I had to respond. This is my favorite Saturday poem as well. Almost every Friday since I first heard it read I find myself reciting what I can remember of it. This Friday I thought I’d try to find the entire poem on the internet and I found you. What I especially find compelling is that it was in Jack Driscoll’s high school poetry class that I first heard this poem some 20 years before he was your teacher. I’m not a writer, (I’m doing the starving artist thing here in New Jersey)but his poetry class was is one of the few experieces from my youth that have stayed with me. Old friends have a way of drifting out of one’s life. Thank you for this wonderful chance encounter


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