Friday

Walking the near empty streets of downtown San Francisco on this beautiful August Friday, inspired us to ask our friend ChatGPT to craft a poem about the economic impact of workless Fridays.  Enjoy!

The Friday Freefall

Fridays used to buzz and hum,
Now they’re quiet, work undone.
The clock ticks slow, the pace is slack,
And the economy feels the lack.

Idle hands, and dreams on pause,
Profits lost, the hidden cost.
As Fridays drift, the drive decays,
And growth begins to lose its ways.

The markets stall, the engines cool,
With every empty desk and stool.
What’s gained in rest, we pay in fall,
As Friday’s break might break it all.

So here’s the truth we can’t ignore,
Less work today, less wealth in store.
The future dims, the stakes are high,
When Fridays wave ambition by.