Underneath

Sometimes

I wear the wrong shoes

on the wrong feet.

My pigeon toes

can’t tip-toe past

the things I keep –

Great piles of reasons

stacked up on

my bedroom floor

Just b u i l d i n g

into mountain-tops

of things I wore.

There’s everything

I threw there

as I swore to you

That inside

broken circles

we’d find nothing new

I dressed myself

in layers

so you couldn’t see

The things that I

was holding onto

u n d e r n e a t h.

One time when I had a dog

One time I had a dog when I was in Greece.

He was my dog,

And I was his dog, too.

I was drunk and near-lost.

S e a r c h I n g

For the hostel where I kept my bags.

I was in a white taxi.

Or maybe blue.

I can’t remember.

He took me to the wrong street.

Or I told him the wrong street.

I can’t remember,

But it was his fault

That I found that stupid dog.

Who decided to come with me.

And then we walked together.

And when I found the hostel

he waited outside.

Like a good boy.

And then I called a new taxi.

Because I had to catch a ferry.

And The dog waited with me.

Until I had to go.

And the dog had to stay.

Like a good boy.

We said goodbye.

And he bit my arm.

And I still have a scar.

On my heart.