Have you ever been left wondering

how you ended up there? There,
in that position
among the craters and the holes
of your existence?

Alone.

You're looking for that buried bone.
You're thinking you should have known
(at your age) better.

You're thinking, life is a bitch.
You're desperate for a reason
to wag your tail.

You're still hoping someone
will throw you a stick.
Teach you a new trick.

And, even as you howl,
you're thinking you fucking well deserve
to have your day.


Howl

Poem copyright Bernard Young 2011