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selina 1d
i sit and watch you and wait like a dog
always just two steps behind you and
always just begging you for scraps

as if two seconds of your attention
would be enough to fill my empty, empty stomach
as if two mere seconds would ever be enough

but you can't even give that-
my friends say i'm too nice and you just call out my name
and when i see that familiar self-satisfied smile on your face

i just become a bad liar and i just look the other way
and i go back to pretending like your bare minimum
is enough to fix my bellyache
live love dog poems
selina 1d
i fall asleep in the back of ubers, to the sounds
of middle-aged drivers talking to their loved ones
giving advice, the smell of spice, my temple on the window
just playing a mental jeopardy with the meanings behind
those accented words of languages i don't understand
perhaps, once upon a time, i did, but now, no longer

i sleep like a stranger in my own home, climbing
into my bed without caution, with atrophying bones
it's a debilitating exhaustion, it's characteristic of aging
of falling and forgetting about the friendships and benefits
that broke through my bed slats, plus the flash-lit attempts
to fix the unfixable with feminist texts and crumpled cash

i dream about my mother as another, and her neck
remains untouched, perhaps only adorned with pearls
so wide, and so bright, and the garage door is always unlocked
it's comfort, it's nostalgia, it's the furthest i've been from home
and when the radio turns on, i wake to unfamiliar laughter, and
"i miss my dog, and i miss falling in love," and everything's amiss
and all i can do is sit here, tipping a stranger as i reminisce
nothing like a long uber ride
large round red puddle
blood of the dog that bit me
i do feel better
Zywa Jan 26
I always get short

of breath when he comes home and --


only pets the dog.
Novel "Buitenstaanders" ("Outsiders", 1983, Renate Dorrestein), § 1

Collection "Loves Tricks Gains Pains in the 80s and 90s"
Robert Ronnow Jan 16
Nicky, the neighbor’s dog, drags a road **** home.
A beautiful pelt like those fox shoulder garments women wore in the
      forties.
But the head is crushed beyond recognition—maybe it’s a fox and that’s
      why Nicky, a canine, is conducting this wake on our front lawn.

Loretta, my wife’s mother, is in the hospital again. Forty years of Crohn’s
      disease has finally broken her.
It may take some time but she won’t bounce back from this episode.
None of us are sorry to see her die, not even Loretta. There will be a
      thunderous downpour during her last hour.

I like the story about the nuns hitting Peg in school–contumacy is a sin.
Emile and Loretta considered it an inappropriate punishment for their
      cherished adopted daughter.
So they pulled her out of Catholic for public school. They did their own
      thinking about discipline.

Early Spring, peepers all night, then the birds take over at dawn.
      Soothing—the mourning doves.
During this half of the year, May through October, we live in a green
      bower.
We turn the house inside out, move into the mountains.

In their annual order, flowers appear in the understory: coltsfoot, hepatica
      and trillium through to the end, late purple aster, spotted joe pye and
      pearly everlasting.
We let Nicky nurse her road ****, watch over it, roll around on it.
Don’t let go of the steering wheel while driving fast in the passing lane.
Bardo Jan 27
Into this world we all come
Great Kings and Queens
Every last one

But pretty soon this world
It has reduced us to mere... scared beggars
Thieves, outlaws...robbers.
Ever felt like a criminal/ an outlaw in your life.
Randy Johnson Dec 2023
You became family when you moved to my place.
You showed a lot of love when you licked my face.
It was sad and heartbreaking when I watched you die.
You weren't just a dog, you were also my sweetie pie.
I bought you in 2020 and I only owned you for three years.
Your death is a painful experience that has driven me to tears.
You were small with chocolate brown fur.
When I say that you were special, I'm sure.
If I live to be a hundred, you're a dog who I'll never forget.
I will always be proud because you were a wonderful pet.
I have something important to tell you because it's true.
You were my Chihuahua and I'll always love and miss you.
Dedicated to Hazel who died on December 9, 2023
Mark Wanless Oct 2023
there was a time long ago in the future
of humanity that folded minds into light

the stars were bright and meaningful
to all who knew the words gone past

history of dreams dogma far exceded
walking backwards into the present

what else is there but we be here now
imagine a life that is imagined

call the spirits call the gods definitions
concepts of the creator weakly shared

ignorance is exaltation wisdom is bane
yet the sky is blue sometimes or pitch

no one exists or ever has a being
we see smell hear taste and touch

a dog is always here for some reason
and will tell me what is true perhaps

the corps on the ground is my own
i turn away and travel a stagnant path
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