Poem 1: Family Pet
Who doesn’t have good memories
of their family’s pet
Twiggy the gun metal miniature poodle
whose snout was too long for her
to compete in dog shows
so loving her tongue curled up
my nostrils when she licked me
not smart
a limited trick repertoire
but peppy,
her toenails clicking
On bare floor of kitchen
whenever we arrived home.
When she came home from grooming
she smelled like a cheap date
with the world’s worst perfume
cloying, a combo of rose and some flower
I did not know the name of,
my mother’s dog mostly,
she being a sixties housewife
home all day
and bearing her share
of past and current woe,
How much she loved that dog!
One day my father let the dog out
saying, “my friend does this.”
That first day out, someone brought
Twiggy’s lifeless body back.
Nothing changed really.
Whatever love my mother once had
for my father had already seeped out
an ancient oil drum
replaced with disdain, regret
our family’s happiness
A doomed ship.
She’d already retreated to her room
most of the day
most of the night
as remote as the farthest star.