Dog Day Afternoons

It first happens
while looking at pictures
when you probably shouldn’t:

her eyes, her
once-infinite eyes, are
now sad and watery, like

A dog’s. And
you think of the endless
nights burnt clean through

gauging the
depths of one-way
mirrors, but all you do

is laugh (and
curse). Hours or maybe
months later, you kneel to scratch

a tiny pup
behind the ear, and in the
calm of that otherwise-blissful

moment
you think of her again,
soft breath on jawbone, cold

feet, warm
bed, sloppy drunk:
and all you can do is curse

and laugh.