i'm still angry about those two sick fucks of the leash 
on the island this morning. 
but as the day unfolded i felt a clarity and strength in myself. 
i felt my purpose. ah, 
there is nothing like the purpose of a late bloomer.
if you can call me a bloomer. never felt like a boomer. 
often felt like a bust.
and them sick fucks 
did not succeed 
in intimidating me 
or trashing my day. 
if i didn't succeed 
in putting the shame 
properly back on them, 
or causing them to reflect on the passion 
of my outrageous freedom, 
i hope at least i succeeded 
in ruining their pinched
and mincing walk. 

mister got hydrated at the doctor, and he said not to worry, 
so me and my sweet mister went to the beach 
where i swam out for the first time. 
i felt calm, it was my time, 
and it was, and my body rejoiced. suddenly, 
after so long on land, 
we were brothered creatures 
of the sea. 
mister swam out with me. 
oh, joy of the seal, of the beaver, the otter, 
the muskrat, the shining fishes, 
oh joy of the sea, joy, oh joy 
of you and me.