Crowds mocked her “beauty”, and peculiar scent.

But the bewildered found gems in those coastal colored eyes,

no matter how distorted the face.

Musk aroma struck fluttering feelings,



butterfly pheromones.

Must have been hoax cologne.

A fool to think since she lacked Venus’ allure,

she would no doubt lack her games.


Lying lips, spit bees, but every kiss seemed cherries.

Falsely comforted in crooked arms.

Humming those songs, that belonged to us,

to discover they could have belonged to strangers.

Eloquent mirage, sculpted for the naive girl’s needs.


Wanted to believe novels of excuses, renowned author of love fiction.

Tattered, tired, thoughts racing for foundation,

blind heroic sense to find the treasured soul,

beauty an illusion.


won’t find devotion searching for ghosts.


Beyond the burnt, stench stained cover,

strong faith the inside was meant to illuminate.

Each ember page turned, more careless and repugnant than the last.

Reading with a Deerstalker hat, compass,

hunting for jewels…suppose.


Found dirt.


Inside wretched grammar smeared with empty torn space.

Simpleton, dreamer?

To think there was anything more…

The dog.

How I miss him,

the snuggle parties, when WE lived together.

Black Hole puppy eyes,

howling to share those skeletons,

If dogs could talk,

---huh.

Midnight velvet coat,

chard's of glass when brushed the wrong way.

Would loose this phone number...

but it's that dog...ya know?

The dog I miss,

grocery store trips,

welcome home kiss,

and good night pets.

The way, my daughter loved him too.

Proud to play mommy to your four legged son,

no smile greater, than her smile those days, caused by purpose and warmth.

The simple joy of a child giving a dog a treat.

The simple joy.

This feeling. Can't beat.

That dog ain't going to make it,

just             like              us.

Just the dog. I miss.

His ground shaking roar,

-he sure is the best guard dog, even if the size of a mouse-

mixed with laughter in the morning.

The way he almost made you look human, when he got sick and you'd cry.

At the next party, stories pour out of their round happy faces,

of their Chihuahuas, Pit-bulls, Dachshunds.

Staring into the Coriolis of my beer, lost like these months,

look up and say "I had a dog once.."