In welcome old Fido is barking
But cats are too haughty for marking
If tenants are home,
Or off on a roam.  
A shut-in gets cranky and carking.

there's this theory, my mom once told me,
that liars are always reincarnated as dogs
i've been thinking a lot about people dying lately
and i've also started counting time in dog years
according to such, it's been about two long dog decades
i don't miss you anymore, and i'm about done grieving you
(you would've just called me out- i'm a liar through and through)
and i found that if i drink enough, you're still here, well and alive
your mom never cries or loops your old playlists when she drives
your dad never comes over to gift me souvenirs from your life
your sister never learns to shape grief into an essay in one night
no, you're still helping her brainstorm what exactly to write
we stay up together, on facetime, stressing the the entire night
and she chooses premed because of a torn ACL, not a torn family
and we spend hours debating if she should submit her SATs
and grief is only ever-so-distant, yet only oh-so-familiar
we have it our way: it is never more than a recognizable stranger
i write you in present tense, you agree: dogs in our next life
i gaslight, i lose my mind, i'm convinced anything's worth a try-
so, how many poems do you think i have to write
for it to be enough to bring a friend back to life?

I think of men much like I think of dogs

I'm initially weary of all the strange ones
I keep my distance and speak softly in case they might bite

After I meet them a few times and they're consistently friendly I'll let my guard down a little

Even then though they will still sometimes bite even if you think you know them

I've encountered enough biting dogs that I'm starting to fear dogs as a species

Which, as it turns out, dogs can sense and they don't like

I don't want to dislike dogs.
I've loved plenty of very good dogs in my life.

There are many dogs that I'm excited to see when they approach me
That I'll give treats and belly rubs to

But people that don't know me well think that I don't like dogs

When they see me interact with them on our first meeting they think I'm mean and crass

But in reality I'm just afraid and trying my best not to show it because they'll sense that fear in me

And chase me back to my truck
Or bite me
Or snarl and snap at the air to watch me dance for them

One mean biting dog will make you wary of dogs for a short time
But then you forget

It's only after many biting dogs
Many scary dogs
That it starts to wear on you
That you get nervous of all of them

But you tell someone their dog bites and they don't believe you

They say its never done that before
They ask you what you were doing when it bit you

They tell you that you should've have been in their yard
Like they didn't invite you there

So it's not that I don't like dogs
It's that dogs don't always like me

And they're one of the greatest dangers that I face on a daily basis

I'm a dog person
I'm also just an animal that runs on instinct

My dog
Can’t ever
Lay down properly.
He finds a spot
Only to leave it
And run in circles
Because nowhere ever feels
Comfortable enough.

I can’t ever
Love properly.
I find a person
Only to leave them
And run in circles
Because no one ever feels
Comfortable enough.

Pretty Cat, Kitty Cat.
U stole My Heart, this morning.
Pretty Cat, Kitty Cat.
Let's watch the Stars burning.
Pretty Cat, Kitty Cat.
Where did u learn to purr?
Pretty Cat, Kitty Cat.
You're a Kitten fully of fur.
Pretty Cat, Kitty Cat.
Your Heart, was Once My Home.
Pretty Cat, Kitty Cat.
Don't in the streets, U Roam.
Pretty Cat, Kitty Cat.
Who, let the Dogs out?
Pretty Cat, Kitty Cat.
Why do U make me Shout?
🤭

What about us..
What about us, the dogs of life..
The children that need to be loved..
The children forgotten....
The floatsams..

How does one lose a creature gracefully…?

Is it possible to just be okay with a quick goodbye under the hum of those awful fluorescent lights? Would it have been easier, kinder, softer, if the lights were lamps scattered about the space, yellow and murmuring? When does the gut-wrneching tightening stop? Will I ever let the sadness of it leave my chest?

Sitting in this complacent grief even months after it all is kind

I know that the grief will let me cry and I know that when I do, it doesn’t judge me for my “I wish things could go back to normal.” Because regardless of how familiar the New Ways become, it still isn’t the same. I am bookended by these two creatures that have and continue to adore the Earth I walk on. But the Old Ways stick with us for longer than we’d maybe like.

But in filling that little empty nook, the small nest where a dog named Nelson used to lie, I’ve forced myself to grow, to become changed.

My adult life started when I got Nelson, and it started again when I had to let him slip through my trembling fingers. And it continues on with this new creature named Franklin, who sits just to the left of that Nelson shaped divot.

Loving things that leave you utterly shattered is what makes us so mendable, forgetful, endlessly desperate for devotion…

The whole scene will replay in 10 years time, and I will be even more ruined then.

I am from water, from fire,
      from earth and air,
            the spirit to complete.
I am from the busy movement of city
      from the busstling to and fro.
I am from historic land,
      from where many jumped to find gold,
            to find a better life.
I am from the prison of Him,
      from where the truama begins,
            perfect from all around.
I am from nights of games,
      from spondgebob monoply
            from Life.
I am from the seeds of the earth,
      from where the magick starts.
I am from Odin, from Apollo,
      the strong Yggdrasil to protect.
I am from the occult of practice,
      from the forests and seas.
I am from long walks with Odin,
      from his warm embrace,
            from playing fetch.
I am from the theatre,
      from Carlos, from tech.
I am from here.