Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Last year, despite his long gone testicles, & 91 dog yrs of innocence, Old Jack got dragged around the whole back yard By his bone, by a coybitch he lives with. He's a lucky dog, but he's 98 Now and down in his hips. He cries at night, Housebound by his infirmities and I Talk to him, touch his head and give him pills. I remember my grandmother's voice-- You old dog you; I love you like jackfrost; Mothers are like that, yes they are. She lived To 95, forgetting for the last Four who she was and where she was and why. Should you or I be 1/2 so fortunate. An old dog doesn't know he's dying, just knows It's harder to live. I blow smoke in his ear And we watch ****** stories, real and imagined. Forensic files, Hitchcock. He struggles to stand. I'm slow at doing what I have to do. This morning, like most, weather permitting, We're 2 blocks down the street from Where we live. He struggles to **** Cancer blocks his peristalsis, makes it difficult To squat. And I  stand ready with my Kleenex, In case he gets it out on neighbor's or The sheriff's lawn. Go ahead old friend, let it Go. I'm right behind you.
0
Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 10:32 AM UTC
Old Dog
Last year, despite his long gone testicles, & 91 dog yrs of innocence, Old Jack got dragged around the whole back yard By his bone, by a coybitch he lives with. He's a lucky dog, but he's 98 Now and down in his hips. He cries at night, Housebound by his infirmities and I Talk to him, touch his head and give him pills. I remember my grandmother's voice-- You old dog you; I love you like jackfrost; Mothers are like that, yes they are. She lived To 95, forgetting for the last Four who she was and where she was and why. Should you or I be 1/2 so fortunate. An old dog doesn't know he's dying, just knows It's harder to live. I blow smoke in his ear And we watch ****** stories, real and imagined. Forensic files, Hitchcock. He struggles to stand. I'm slow at doing what I have to do. This morning, like most, weather permitting, We're 2 blocks down the street from Where we live. He struggles to **** Cancer blocks his peristalsis, makes it difficult To squat. And I  stand ready with my Kleenex, In case he gets it out on neighbor's or The sheriff's lawn. Go ahead old friend, let it Go. I'm right behind you.
bobby-copeland
Written by
65/M/Kentucky
Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 10:32 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem