2012-11-15T00:00:47-08:00November 15th, 2012|Parenthood|

A dog named Penis

It’s as though you’ve been saving up
listening to language
like a hoarder

stuffing words in the folds of your brain
and under your tongue

laying on them
like eggs
and now you unspool them as fast as you can
as though speaking is an emergency
as though you need to make room
for breath

you hang words in the air
like sparkly things
that you insist I admire

I want a brown dog named Penis

it’s the clearest sentence you’ve ever said
and you look at me
proud and surprised
as if you’d caught that brown dog
falling from the sky

I try not to laugh
while I put your shoes on
as we talk about all the places
you and Penis will go.

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