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The jam and the cake

were not separating. 

And the fun

from last night's pillage

was quickly becoming

a foreign memory.

I don't remember the last time I've been

with a lady.

Maybe yesterday.

Maybe fourteen years ago.

I suppose things like that lose

their aesthetics after you lose

a limb.

And that third bullet

which bit my left calf six-

teen years ago

well

it still screams at me every time I

bend down

to take a shit.

My dog's lover died today.

Got thrown away in the trash. He

ripped it to shreds last week and has been

trying to remedy the poor beast

for the past 6 days.

It's been admirable to watch but

I've finally had enough.

I had enough of watching him struggle, trying to

put the fuzz back in place, attempting to

stitch the helpless thing

back together.

It was a lost cause.

It was once

a raccoon.

(I think).

So right after I put the food in his dish, I snuck over to where

he left it mangled in the living room, picked it up with tissue paper,

and threw it in the bathroom's trash.

He'll never find it. Dogs

never enter

the bathroom.