Either all days are holy or none are.
                       — Terry Pratchett

Knowing there will always be audiences for Sunday, this is about Sunday. For this day of the week we have this name. Sunday, which resists visitation. You cannot conserve or damage Sunday. It has always been there / will always be there. Sunday defies restoration. What does this mean for Sunday? How early is Sunday? Sunday unhinged from its anchor. The current Sunday we are in right now. How to activate it together. As for authorship over Sunday, I put that on Sunday. I put that Sunday on everything. A shining pearlescent layer on material reality. Meaning the iridescent sheen we cover the world with. Immediately Sunday becomes elemental, a whirlwind. Today is Sunday for example. My nonagenarian Sunday in the rehab’s defective wheelchair sobbing, “The whole bottom dropped out of me,” before the Elvis impersonator’s eye contact for the entirety of “Amen” the Sunday ahead of Christmas Eve. Santa brought Sunday early. Some say Sunday’s nothing. Very zen way to look at Sunday. Is Sunday an event? A score? Sunday’s an experiment, and suddenly Sunday becomes this very special thing. Sunday this human imposition on time. Sunday a measurement human beings keep in mind. What does it mean to perform Sunday? To manifest it in the present? What would it mean to keep Sunday
alive?