November 8, 2020

Fido Fine No (8/31)

 


I don’t hate dogs

Rather, I hate what they represent

Or maybe it’s just my imagination


I sit in the park

One night with friends, keeping to ourselves

When a wild dog walker appears


I catch her 

Watching us and wanting to be a part

Probably so starved for human speech


I perceive her in...

Before she does but know of no way

To deny her barging privilege


Aw a doggie

My friends pretend to notice

For the first time


I stare in silence

She apologizes, her dog just loves

To say hello, you know


I notice her gaze

Scanning our makeshift picnic

For conversation clues


I acknowledge

The canine with a stern eyes as if to say

Hello, yes, but stay over there 


I realize he too,

Like his mother, is a stranger

To not getting his way


I get barked at,

Snarled at, slightly foamed at, as the ancestors

Possess my muscles and tense me up


I am assured

He’s not usually like this

As he’s reigned in


I watch her walk

Away defeated knowing no new friends

Were made this evening


I almost feel

Sorry for them, not their fault I struggle

To forget history


Word

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