poem of the day 07.20.16

sunday morning (7:45 a.m.)

this morning is ugly

but i needn’t tell you that

and the same dog is taking his same shit

right in front of my window

barking and growling at ghosts

while his owner has the same conversation on his phone

with the same person that he had it with last week

always something about kicking ass on saturday night

he’s wearing the same bar t-shirt and mesh shorts

dipshit sandals and shades that he always wears

flipping his keys like some kind of wise guy

giving me the same clueless douche bag look

when our eyes meet

in the sky the sun beams down

a pale yellow halo over this cracked landscape

of apartment complexes, embedded garbage and concrete

and the world looks like god’s vomit anew

as i watch the dog quiver his hind legs

and drop a massive steaming one

that his owner won’t pick up

like he didn’t do last week or the week before

thinking to myself you can’t spell suicide

without the U and I

before shutting the blinds that i’d only just opened

for whatever idiotic reason that i had

for wanting to let a little bit of light in

and look at the dull world around me.