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by Shannon Adele

When your dog dies
play that song about dogs dying.
you’'ll feel better.

no, no the dog is gone, the dog is gone
no, no the dog is gone, the dog is gone

I’'m mostly trying to tell
you everything between mouthfuls
of you for you you'’re too.

The only look I have is look up
and I think that might mean
something. To someone. Somewhere.
Just kidding. It’s just me. Here.

It'’s seven fifty-two
and you just dropped a handful
of pins all over the floor
déjà vu tomorrow when your
landlord says “I heard you drop
that handful of pins, was it seven
hundred and fifty-two of them?
she’'s always so close.

Don'’t worry burlap sack.
I left two of them under the sink
So the next prettyconfused girl
can wonder what kind of pretty
confused girl left them there.


Posted on 01/12/2008
Copyright © 2020 Shannon Adele

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 01/12/08 at 03:58 AM

This feels a lot like a really catchy song. I like that. It's very nicely done.

Posted by Christina Gleason on 03/12/08 at 03:46 PM

I love this terribly. That beginning! I'll be thinking it all day.

Posted by Trisha De Gracia on 04/30/08 at 08:28 AM

Glad to have stumbled upon you from gabriel's fav list. I like this alot. Nice stuff.

Posted by Christina Gleason on 06/09/08 at 02:42 AM

I miss you.

Posted by Laura Doom on 12/08/08 at 11:21 PM

I don't have a dog...but enough of regret. Around the 'and I think that might mean' phase, I was ready to regurgitate - instead, I think I got laid. I guess that's what parahysteria does for you, or rather, me.
A pleasure to nibble at your cortex for a while :>

Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 10/18/14 at 11:54 AM

I love the conversation going on here. it dares to head in many directions, and not feel in the least divided but solid as a river.

Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 02/04/15 at 04:25 AM

Especially love the dropped-pins stanza.

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