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Spaghetti knots

17 years in hanely, saskatchewan

The dog moaned

with bone and body

in the wrong places

and it was my job

to set them right

by taking my friend outside

on a sun peached day

where clothes wetted the wind

and the land waved yellow

and the dog winced

as I brought it to the field

where we had our many walks

just like this

but not it too

hobble after hobble

dried flakes falling

bits of pieces I had known for

17 years and wished I could

know for longer but couldn’t

because it wails

against the robins

that fly away

only for crows replace them

and I have a finger of death

on which they perch

but it can also be used for petting

and combing and patting

and the dog looks up

while I roll my digit

over its flappy ear and its squirreled tail and accidental bone

and it pants and tries to roll over

but it cannot move much more in the hay

because bone pokes out further

and the clothes must have wet this place too

because it’s hard to breath

and the dog pants more

and I flex

and the dog does too

because I miss

hitting the side of the head

like I would if I played catch

and it did

a bit

enough to hear more carping

and carping until the crows

are replaced with vultures

and I’m so sorry

I didn’t mean to

I just didn’t want to

and I go again

a load is lost

the dog’s bones are everywhere

and the clothes must be stained red now

because everything else is

and the dog is still crying

and I am too

and the clothes haven’t stopped yet

and why won’t it die

when I am

and the muzzle’s hot

and will melt away too

like the mush of brains

and tricks and fur

in front of me that

is looking nowhere

but still looking in all directions

and stop please stop




please make me stop

and it is squealing

and squealing

and the pigs have all been put to rest

but I am sure they are up now

for I am

legs straddled over the beast

arms tight

and I click and click and click

and click and click and click

and click and click and click

until there’s nothing left in this world,

then calmness coos

for the vultures have gone

and all that remains are clouds

and eventually,

an empty sky

About kacperniburski

I am searching for something in between the letters. Follow my wordpress or my IG (@_kenkan)


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