oh yeah!
i wrote
last night
creatively
script-ily
a whole scene
i can do it
i can write
(other than poetry)
but i sure can
still write
a whole bunch
of
poems
~~~
there are things
to do
today
and i’m actually
excited
to do them?
~~~
sad
puppy dog eyes
gazing up at me
as if i could protect her
from everything
i will try, Computer,
i will try
the puppy
plays with her ball
not a care in the world
meanwhile
the cat
cares deeply
about the food
that has yet to be
hand-delivered
to her
snickerdoodles
and pumpkin pecan coffee
and spooky tunes
and writing poems
all
for
breakfast
~~~
i know
that it’s not
the same
but seeing our tiny puppy
in pain
reminds me of the stories
parents tell
of seeing their children
hurt
or sick
for the first time
and how frustrating it feels
to be utterly helpless
to not be able to explain to your baby
‘this cough will pass
you just need to rest’
or
‘i can’t magically make you better
even though i give you
every other
necessity
needed
for life’
wanting to do everything
and being able to do nothing
and those eyes asking for the world
which you’d give
in an instant
if you
only
could
~~~
thank you
Louka
for the treats
with the natural pain relief
so this puppy could get excited
about them
instead of concentrating on
her hurt leg
and helping her
sleep
some pain
away
two puppies
whining for each other
all night
one sounding like
an actual canine
the other
a whole flock
of avian nestlings
writing poetry
while puppies play
is a split attention
activity
the puppy
and the cat
are not mortal enemies
they may, in fact
simply be
frenemies
(though,
perhaps
that’s all from the cat’s
perspective
the puppy
100% believes
they’re besties
or at least could/should be.)
one of the puppy’s
favorite playthings
is a squeaker stolen
from another dog toy
the red plastic disc
bounces and baubles
in such an entertaining manner
the puppy can’t help but be
engaged
add to that the squeak for its original purpose
(a squeak she never really squeaked
when it was part of a pre-made set)
and the size perfect for her to fit
in her little puppy mouth;
this seems to be the perfect toy
she entertains herself for longer
than with any other toy
(ice cubes come close)
but its tiny size makes it the perfect prize
for the under-the-couch vortex
so she still sends up needing us
not to play with
but to rescue
this toy
as she gets it stuck
under couches,
under shelves,
behind radiators,
and between couch cushions,
and all in all, it’s a pretty good toy
for a needy puppy
(i’m just worried about the day
her mouth and throat grow
and the squeaker becomes
more choking hazard
than entertainment,
but who knows—
maybe this is the size this puppy will be
forever!)
they say the cello is the instrument
most like the human voice
but
whenever i listen to violins
play long, extended phrases
i always catch myself
holding my breath
as if i could sing the line
too
~~~
how is our puppy
so damn cute
and precious
and calm
when she’s sleepy
and so adorably hassle-y
and damn destructive
when she’s hyper-awake?
~~~
short poems
small amounts
because today
my belly says
‘no’
to write
or not to write
on this day
of performing
my own poetry
live
for the very first time
that sure is the question
~~~
can coffee
really do for my creativity
what it already does for my
comfort
and
awake-ness
and routine-building?
~~~
Oven Puppy
appears in reflections
all over our walk
and the puppy
(our puppy, Computer the Puppy)
wants to know:
is Oven Puppy nice?
how did Oven Puppy even get into our oven?
why does Oven Puppy always mimic Computer’s movements/
barks/
danger tail-poof?
how did Oven Puppy get inside the college windows at night?
and will Oven Puppy ever come out to play?
——————————————————————
The show is today, virtual, 2pm Eastern, and free
for tickets: https://www.eventbrite.com/e/321018253237
oh to be a puppy
happily chewing a faux bone
no cares in this world
but what to do if it gets lost
under a couch
oh to be a cat
content to sleep all day
and chase ghosts all night
and lay down all comfy
in whatever lap
she decides
wants her
oh to be a summer storm
rolling in to a parched land
thankful of the temperature-lowering powers
it brings with it
dropping rain
and giving an excellent light show
and changing the air pressure
for a time
oh to be anything but human
in late stage capitalism
here at this point in history–
the crossroads of
‘will we start caring
as a community
or will we let the world
burn?’
kipventures 