anna kiss





Burying the Schizophrenic’s Dog


She is caught in her own babbling on,

her mouth caked by madness,

and wrapped thick with fantasy –

She stands in silence,

perhaps reckoning with all the spinning images,

the nonsense that consumes her daily life.

And somehow, this is her relating to us

the triumphs of her canine life companion,

(now only the body in the box, the mist in the air),

how he settled the bones of her ancestors,

as they chattered endlessly at her

with words so big they swallowed her whole,

and memories clouded with suggestion.

Her world was shaped by and balanced upon the unseen,

and her only friend was there to hold her, paw to palm,

to coax her through it.

Having known this all forever,

and her own words coming out all nonsense,

I realize that it can only go downhill from here.






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