ruff ruff

i talked to her over the phone
and she licked it. my mother told me
she was just back from the vet, a pound lighter,
with a nice, soft crew cut. my brother asked me about
the parakeet we had when we grew up. the one that
used to ride around on the back of daisy maidle,
our pup. davey crockett, i told him. but of course.

why not?

there's always this vague suggestion
of meaninglessness masquerading as dependency.
i don't know what to do with it
because of course it's meaningful,
and there's no path, nothing
circumscribed, nothing definitive.
there's now and then there's
nothing and we're supposed to figure
out how to navigate in between.
that thought, that touch, that sound,
that space, that breath. this is it.