Diana Darby ** "I V" ** Intravenous

Doggie Style

This morning,
we both feel like Hell,
that is the dog and I.
He doesn’t feel like chasing the ball
and I damn sure don’t feel like throwing it.
Last night his stomach exploded
all over the living room floor.
This morning it was my turn
to run to the bathroom
cursing.
Blame it on the strawberries
we both ate,
or the pinto beans,
or the guacamole,
or the organic blue corn chips.
Blame it on the moon,
or our new vitamins,
or the stock market.
Blame it on my poor judgment
or his lack of willpower.
It doesn’t matter.
Whatever it is or was,
isn’t going away.
We’re in this together now,
he and I.
He on his bed,
me on mine.
I just wish when he goes outside to eat grass
I could go with him.