and now I know what dogs must feel
like, when you stand up and kick back
your bar stool and shuffle up to the
karaokers, as though
you've known them all your life
and you sing together and connect
the dots of the bits
of spilled beer on the counter that
match up like sleep creases
on the face of the Earth slumbering
over you like a cheap throw pillow, and
it's just so damn sound
to be in tune with someone like you,
who doesn't wear pants or ties or
agonize over taxes, who loves
hanging their head out of a moving car
and howling at the stars and
chew toys, dear God, the chew toys and
I'm a dog and happy, oh so happy,
to have another like me.
