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You started that day – beer in
Hand, climbing in the shower.

You went on a bender that
Night, did every Wednesday.

You got back home Thursday
Morning; you didn’t care

About our poor flatmates, or
How I was puppy-sitting.

Clearly you hated hearing
Your name implied with foulness;

You didn’t hear that scream from
The bathroom, the falling tears,

But you left that night

After one of us asked: Did
You shit in the shower, mate?

We suspected the puppy first, but
Never a dog laid a turd twice its size.