Celebrate

At any oppurtunity,
some more so than others,
they will shed their skins
and daily routines
to celebrate anything. 

Tonight, they gather
to celebrate failure.
Before, they dressed
to menace
and after tomorrow
they will wait for the next
excuseto gather again;
rejoicing in their mundance
similarities. 

I have long been estranged to this desire:
I seldom want them near me,
yet I constantly feel like celebrating...
The hard fight with each day,
the people within them...
They haven't killed me yet.
This calls for a drink;
a good long solitudious drink
and a toast 'to all those
who are now together,
you have no idea
what you're missing.'