Have You Been Watching the News?
Every time I look at the dog, I remember she is going to die.
Sometimes I cry while picking her shit up from the yard with a plastic claw.
Next week she will turn one.
I pick my nails and watch bad TV but that also makes me sad.
Last summer my stomach swelled suddenly and mysteriously.
The doctor decided it was stress and told me to try meditation.
I’d rather my stomach explode from my jeans than sit in silence with myself.
I used to drink three cups of coffee every day.
I’m down to one but sleeping is still a battle.
Last night I looked at the dog before bed so she slept by my side, just in case.
It was hot and she stretched out her legs but I couldn’t ask her to leave.
It feels stupid to be crying over a dog considering all there is to consider
but it is easier than crying over the things that keep me from turning on the TV
or the things that keep me turning on the TV to watch skinny women fight for love.
I want to say sorry for everything:
Sorry for using the word cry in a poem.
Sorry for slamming the car door again.
Sorry for turning off the television after nineteen children are shot.
Yesterday I bought chocolate covered raisins and ate them one by one.
I haven’t confirmed this but I am bloated because
there is a well inside my belly which fills itself during the nightly news.
My sole purpose on this earth is to keep it from overflowing at the wrong time
which means I clean up dog shit to keep things level.
I have never made it to the bottom.
When I look in the mirror I see a cartoon plugging her ears going
la la la la la la la.
There are probably more productive things I could do about the things that make me sad
but those things would require me to talk about the things that make me sad.
I shouldn’t have adopted the dog.