Sunday, December 16, 2007

Relentless

It's hard to take this personally so I'm going to try not to. My beloved dog, Yogi, is dying by degrees and I'm taking him to the vet tomorrow for the last time (euphemism-put down, put to sleep, etc). Shit. I just want something to lighten up already.

So a few years ago, I was having a very bad day so I put on Beethoven's 9th, very loud, got some cigarettes and some Scotch and lay on the floor in the living room with the windows open in October. It was cold, it was loud, it was pretty much of a drunken misery moment. Yogi came in, took in the whole scene, and left. I disgusted even my dog, old loyal friend. And HE had attitude with ME, the nerve, when I have seen him eat duck poop and roll in dead salmon.

God, I'm going to miss him.

For New Years I'm going to make some burnt offerings or something. What do you burn in those things anyway? Clothes that don't fit? Old love letters you were excited to get 25 years ago and upon recent viewing are rather stupid and lame? Boxes of horrid poetry you wrote in high school?

For my birthday next year, I'm going to have a Bad Poetry party. Everyone has to bring a bad poem, preferably one they wrote in college. Lois treated us to a poem about walking along the shore and thinking deep thoughts. Profoundly bad.

4 comments:

T. said...

Back in the days of Nelson Bentley at the UW, he used to host an annual World's Worst Poetry Reading. We'd search far and wide for absolutely the most wretched poems we could find. And they couldn't just be marginally bad -- they had to scream.
But reading bad poetry that one has authored oneself -- now that's entirely frightening!!

GoGo said...

Sorry to hear about your dog. That just sucks! I am liking your blog...and poetry. Damn, its fun.

Thanks.

~GoGo

beth coyote said...

there is a poem called The Queen of Cheese-truly awful.

Only 5 more days until this month is over. There will be no more badness, I insist.

Ajax said...

Wow. I know this was a while ago, and i don't mean to conjure up difficult memories, but, wow. How did you survive such a month? You are forged of something truly indurate and tenacious. You are one tough lady. My hats off to you.