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Zywa 1d
At the bench, just before
we get there, he reaches
for the ground

and sits down
but he doesn't seem to know how
he doesn't seem to be well, I wait

A municipal man comes
to see and he calls for help, sirens
My companion is carefully laid down

A woman presses her arms
around me and holds me
caressing me

Others are watching
tirelessly his chest rises
after every push, another push

I'm still not allowed
to go to him, I'm waiting
it can't be right

that he stays down
that he is not on the bench
that he doesn't talk to me
On the death of a neighbour while walking his dog on March 14th, 2024

Collection "Webgarden"
It's been three months since the day when you died.
You were a wonderful dog and that can't be denied.
I remember the day when I bought you.
When you died, it was a terrible thing to go through.
I became a lucky man when your former owner sold you to me.
You were my Chihuahua and I bought you on August 18, 2020.
When you died, it was something that was sure to devastate.
You were my dog and that's something I'll always appreciate.
DEDICATED TO HAZEL WHO DIED THREE MONTHS AGO TODAY ON DECEMBER 9, 2023.
Mark Wanless Mar 9
dog is mans best friend
tries to teach us but we do
not listen wisely
selina Feb 28
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 Feb 28
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
Mark Wanless Feb 23
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.
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