Thursday, October 05, 2006

Dog Memories

Pop car slop out. Not a ship in size for old bottle me. I lay down. I take my rest. My first rest in a long time. Yesterday I took a nap. Delightful and full of time. Something about music makes shuddering good. I suppose I travel in a circle. Where did old trees go? My old backyard finished with me, though my dog lies buried there still. Dead of a broken heart, busted aortic tendon, chest cavity filled with blood, panting on a pillow, wanting to sleep. Sleeping now, Old Sweet Dog, survivor of car hit, of suburb family madness and weird two legged things hitting you with rubber bands, putting you in the tub and making you cold with water and soap…how COULD you have loved us? I need that forgiveness power, my Brandy. I invite you from my dream into my heart. You were always there, even in my confusion. My living makes me alive. You are in the ground behind our old house. I wish for you a celestial plane of running and many smells, much humping, much food. Or, alternatively, where can I find your holy sweet and stinky coat of brown fur somewhere out there in universe too big to imagine? You are there, I see you, having another life, reborn as a fat suburban father with kids and your own crazy jumping dog, doing it better than we did, being clear in thought, not torturing each other in broad daylight.

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