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I move when my dog wants up on the sofa
He learned so quickly how to not bring sticks and balls back
He seems to think when he puts his head down
there should be a bowl beneath it
Strained swell into a wells
Turning the nail
Hammering ahead
My legs stringed with tongued dog saliva
That tilt of his head where he pretends to know what Sit means I just don’t want to
Are you really gonna eat that without giving me a bit
Eyes that bo puss ots
would aawwww
His knack of wanting to go outside just as my head hits the pillow so far….
………………………… ahead
I
A
M
In another lane
Aircraft no more
It’s an ex
Plainly your not ready for this
but your humanoid alien kids are gonna love it
Am I still there
I sometimes ask
Sometimes in funny voices
If someone answers
the trickle of icicles caress along my spine
So divine
Nothing has a calmness to
A still just still
He snorts when he sleeps
And I mean all blown instruments being cleaned all at the same time by a sand blaster
Copyright ©
Christopher Quigley
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