This poem was written spinning off the first line in Irene Toh's poem Rouge.
How Some Dogs Must Feel
How she sought me out
I will never know for sure
because I see how
her eyes dart sideways,
then to the ceiling before
she speaks some glib rhyme
about it all.
Sigh.
Something creaks up there rather
like giants moving
some comets about.
After that she looks at me,
back I should say at
me cringing as if a blow
soon will box my ears.
May 26, 2014 5:08 PM
Love the towel in the mouth. Like a lady nibbling her napkin in distress
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