Walkies

 P1140336

Walkies
It’s gritting teeth on twigs, said the dog
I try not to say the worst thing, or scratch at it
Hopeful is what I do best, with my big eyes
On the forest. You won’t want to know

About the sack full of my sisters
The contumely of understairs cupboards
The not-fetching larruping I got
Bringing up my breakfast all over the mat

The shock of dogness
Is where I am hiding
I want to talk to you in gruff whispers
But it is hard to measure out
Without extra saliva,
With this long lolling tongue
And strange narrow palate
Lined with obvious prehistoric accessories

My fingernails are intolerable
My nose is wet and blue
But that’s not from being canine
My stomach is hard and lined with nipples
From  holding in the  inedible truth
My ears are triangular silk puffs
That I stopped up once

Now I let them flop and flap

In case it is noticed
I can never speak without whining
Whilst in this dress.

 

Veronica Aldous 2016 all rights reserved

 

 

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About Veronica Aldous

Writer and artist, Veronica is a lecturer is Fine Art and Creative Writing. Her first book of poems, 'Moon Cinema' is now available on Lulu.com. Now there is also 'Mortal' her second book.
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