Monday, May 19, 2008

Hound Nostrils

It's raining outside
you mosey on over to my area
on the porch

where the rain beads
up on a rhododendron bush.

Our blue tick hound –
he sniffs the dewy breeze
as he always does when it rains.

As patting his head,
you look at me and say,

"All my clothes need washing,
so I borrowed some off your cousin."

I notice my cousin must wear
a few sizes too big for you,

seeing as how
the bra strap
keeps slipping off your shoulder.

While I move the strap
back among your shoulder,
your eyes are fixed

upon our hound's twitching
nostrils, rustling.

1 comment:

Jessika Doyel said...

i swear will rucker i will fucking kill you if you don't keep writing.
really, now. do it