It’s just as well you couldn’t hear the man
who found your body swearing
at his dog and holding her at bay.
Just as well you didn’t come around
When she slipped her lead
to lick the vomit from your face,
That you were spared that first of many novel shames
before October in the lockdown ward bereft
of razors, laces, solitude
getting sober, finding God
till you convinced yourself
there’s some greater meaning here
in failure and in second chances undeserved.
(Well, this one’s bleak as hell).