Gloom and
Gusto
Degrade my little hands,
Green with the slime
and grime
and grit
and sticky dirt
Stolen from the
Gut of my enemy,
My God.

Dreaming of greatness,
consumed by the girth
of life and sin
only to find that it
is not Good.
That my gluttonous hunt
as been but the
Greed of questions,
the fervor of eager,
That my mind,
my soul,
is grotesque.

And all this time
I thought this was
Graduation.