It’s just not time for Christmas. Easter is passé.
July the Fourth and fireworks are several months away.
Halloween’s too creepy; Boxing day: obscure.
You don’t get into Kwanzaa; Leap year: so unsure.
Labor Day sounds worksome. Flag day feels strung out.
Columbus makes you seasick. (April 1st is just plain out.)
Father’s Day: transgendered. Thanksgiving? ... getting warm.
Arbor Day? Potential -- had you lived on a farm.
Mother’s Day is over; your birthday: months ahead,
Memorial Day’s in a week or two (but that implies you’re dead.)
Valentine’s is jaded; Earth Day’s not your thing
St. Patrick’s Day is taken. Ditto M.L. King
I've run the year in circles; I’m coming to conclude,
There’s just no day worth choosing that strikes that perfect mood.
No day to mark the standard. No day to set the tone.
No day that’s even-handed. No day that’s all your own.
This can't be "luck" or "chances". An oversight? Can't be!
This must have been deliberate. Intended cruelty!
A slight of great proportion. A snub of epic scope!
An injustice unforgiven; But, wait! … I think there's hope.
There's still a way to fix it -- a remedy, I feel
I think we can address it, and start to grow and heal.
Though culture may have faltered and failed to homage pay
I’ll remedy that error, and declare it "Stacy Day"!
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