dogs

when the heart pumps
through the vein
in the streets
and the dogs chew on the
congealed blood jell-o
that settles in the cracks
and cakes itself onto the
grass and weeds that
push through the
pavement:
this is me in the mirror
unshaven
and pondering the
state of things
all things
all the while my beard
is growing
graying
and i haven't blinked
can't blink
while the dogs in the
streets and sewers
howl behind mouthfuls of
circumstance

sometimes i think i am beautiful.
but if man cannot,
what god dare claim
perfection?

Author's Note

Left the punctuation to a minimum. I'm experimenting here. The last couple lines are quoted from the poet Wole Soyinka.

Reviews

[Kenneth The Poet]

That is damn brilliant. I like how you speak with such wisdom for being so young.