On My Completing Twenty Three Years

A gift of thunder and a blurry eye.
I stand amidst the cool showers
My sweat cold and sticky, dry
Throat – drier, for nothing
Else is.

Let me tell you

There is an ugly dog that lives
Rather, comes and goes, looks
Beneath the cars, on the walls,
Looks sincerely, looks hard
Looks precisely for a place
To piss.

Don’t you see?

There’s more to it than what gives
An ugly dog and man, lulling,
Against the wind, beneath the sky
Feigning a solemnity than there is,
Mulling, “Is anything greater
Than this?”

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