The Whine of the Dog

i sat in my chair
starring at the ceiling
with my feet on the desk
and a beer pinched between
my index
and
thumb.
waiting for
the air
to
thicken with thoughts
and put me into action.
the dog let out a low whimper
and i heard him
through both closed doors
clawing at the fence in the kitchen.
his whimpers grew to moans
and moans grew towards barks
and i finally got my feet on the ground.
i sat outside of the fence
and talked with him a bit
about his disturbing my writing.
"listen pal, quit the shit huh? i'm working over here,
later, later we'll go out and look for some bitches, but right now
just hang back for a second."
i reached over and rubbed the back of his small head.
back in the room
with the windows open
feeling cool dusk breeze
and feet up on desk.
i thought about her
and wondered how time can bring us
to our knees like small children
getting whipped.
our feet cut out from under us
as we hop along like frogs.
then,
i hear him whimpering again.
i realize
that his whimpers
make me want to go even further away from him
because he dislikes being alone
and constantly cries about it.
i look over myself in the mirror
the sad condition of my face
and make amends
with myself.