In Praise of Praise

Not a participation trophy fan, still, I believe in praise–fair props.
Praise the days, praise the nights, praise the accident that is us,
Our planet, our time, our space, our separate solitary worlds,
Together and apart, unable to perceive reality let alone truth
Less a word than a gurgling gut full of sense and the sensible.

Through the singeing stain of soiled panties soaked in piss, as I sobbed,
Sitting beside the third grade boy crush and plum of my notice,
Shame stays, but the blush of recognition, heart surge pumping pride
in mastering a job well done, earned in doubt and fear, curtained hope,
The A, raise, high five, and fist bump, all winking nod to gratitude’s birthright.