Henry loved Rosco ever since his dad brought him home over ten years ago. The two of them have been practically inseparable since. The only time spent apart was when Henry attended school. This day was pretty much like any other, with Henry and Rosco out in the large field beside the house. Rosco’s wheat-colored coat was shimmering in the blistering sun as Henry stroked his beloved friend. This brought back many pleasant memories of the two running and playing, or just lying around in that field. 

Henry got up, wiped his tears, picked up the shovel, and continued digging.

I opened the door for a coworker

who was struggling with bags

he thanked me and I said

“well, that’s my good 

deed for the day”

he asked

“that’s your only deed

for the day huh?”

I said

“fuck no

my only GOOD deed

I’ve got some real evil shit

in the works as we speak”

another glass of whiskey

although 

this particular fluid

is a top shelf splurge

another cigar

but this stick 

has achieved soaring ranks

in magazines and online

you would think I’d feel classy

higher and happier than ever

indulging in such sumptuous vices

but I still feel like

the lousy representation 

of a human I always am

no matter what’s in my glass

or between my fingers

some things never change

and most things rarely

change my mind

however

birds repetitiously eat

the same monotonous shit everyday

but they are chirping loud as ever