ska
jazz
celebratory
kind of morning
puppies playing
puppies smiling
puppies allowed to be puppies once more
ska
jazz
celebratory
kind of morning
puppies playing
puppies smiling
puppies allowed to be puppies once more
sudden raindrops
out of a halcyon sky
[so cloudy
it mimics
a deep clear blue]
one drop
then two
then a few
only on me
only on me
until they start to fall
on kip
and computer too
and we walk
swiftly
(but don’t run)
back home
to enjoy this summer storm
in peace
and
coverage
the cat
lying
comfortably on my lap
the puppy
playing
exuberantly with her toys
something happens
some kind of loud noise
now both animals are scared,
the cat has yeeted herself from my body,
and that is why i’m bleeding.
we have
such a good dog!
oh
my
goodness!
when she does the things we ask of her —
so good!
when she doesn’t,
but wants to,
but gets a little confused —
very good!
when she is feeling a bit contrary
but clearly wants us
to be proud —
so good!
when she misbehaves
it’s usually because
we didn’t give her
enough attention
or exercise
or know exactly
what was going through her mind
at the time,
and that makes her
still
a good
good
dog!
little puppy chirps
of whining
of attention-grabbing
of trying to get comfortable
on an uncomfortable leg
and a cone-surrounded head
in a tiny cage
trying to contain
all this
big
puppy
energy
red-eyed puppy
gazing soulfully
through her cone
trying to sleep
through pain
and excitement
trying to calm
herself
through rough times
and cat visits
and trying to occupy her time
through crate-rest boredom
how long does this puppy have to stay
without an outlet
for her puppy energy?
the puppy
newly recovered from surgery
still overexerts herself in excitement
and panic
whenever the cat comes near
and i don’t know how to help her see
the cat will still be here when she is healthy
the tiny tail wags
from a puppy who sees a cat
whom she hopes to befriend,
and the larger tail whips
from a cat who isn’t necessarily mad,
but definitely doesn’t want this friendship
as much
as the dog
wants it
and we poor humans
no tails to show our emotions
we must rely on (unreliable) facial expressions
and (unexpressive) english words.
poor
us.
hungry
worried
early
morning
mundane and
not so mundane
worried
so worried
still hungry
~~~
calm morning
of stress
wanting
less
of the drama that comes from
this little broken puppy pup
but still
we’d rather
have her
all torn ligaments
and fractured bones
and menacing hassles
than not
~~~
it’s so strange to hear
simple
calm
piano
in the morning
i’m used to
acid jazz
and electronic house
and more chaotic sounds
to wake up to
but the calm simplicity
seems to be helping me
find more in my poetry
(and harmonizes well with a sighing puppy)
how can i remember
remembering
but can no longer remember
the actual thing?
~~~
it hurts my soul
to see our puppy so
sad and distressed
standing still in a cage
but it’s for her own good
and i wish
i wish
i could
explain to her in words
she’d comprehend:
‘just a few more days
and after, take it easy
and then, hopefully,
no more
puppy
prison’
~~~
how do people
craft poetry
instead of just letting
their guts fly free
internal thought process
and emotionality
all nakedly out
for any perusing
reading
eye to see?