sometimes i
talk to my dog
smiling
because he don't know
or care
what it is
i got to say

but i tell him
i rattle off my stories
changing names to protect
those innocent bystanders
reluctant witnesses
playing shadow to fear

i tell him
i say
you watch those ones, hound
they'll never help you out

and he just listens
grinning like only a beast can
stinkin of his own filth
his shit and
skin
his fleas and
ticks

i tell him
i say
your breath sickens, hound
like rotting flesh stuck under tongue

but then i keep talking
talk about a song
talk about the blues
that slow ache that whispers
"you're on to something,
now suffer for it"

i keep telling him about it all
smiling
he keeps listening
growling in the good parts