Sunday, March 6, 2011

Merry Christmas, darling

Mom was telling them about her cancer.
They cried.
Talked about their grandchildren.
Exchanged gifts.
Their poodle, Wylie, was lying next to me.
Not at all like I remembered him to be.
Had I been absent for that long?
They looked the same though and the house did too.
I spent so much time here when I was a small child.
When my mom was working they took care of me.
Hours and hours of Bewitched and I Dream of Jeannie.
Paddington Bear and The Hulk.
Grilled cheese sandwiches made with unfamiliar cheeses.
Glow in the dark finger puppets.
Turning away when Superman kissed Lois.
Swimming in their above ground pool in the summer.
Though I never learned to swim.
They told me he would sit under my hands forever if I kept petting him.
I stopped petting and he got up and started walking.
He runs into furniture.
His eyes are greyed over like his body.
The Christmas tree was unfamiliar to him now.
He ran into it, got scared and backed away.
I brought him back to me by putting my hand out and touching his fur again.
I don’t know.
A light up Winnie the Pooh.
Getting better.
Don’t forget your present.
We love you.
The dog curled up and began licking his little doggy penis next to me.
I hate that sound.
I hope they don’t think I made him do it.
That fucking horrible licking sound.
The only peace he has left and I want to take it away.
I would have swatted him if I thought I wouldn’t be judged.
I pretend not to care while everyone else really doesn’t care.
He just keeps licking and licking.
At a time like this.
I feel like there is something wrong with me at this point.
I would have gladly stolen his penis licking peace of mind and not thought twice about it.
I don't remember when he stopped.
I don't remember leaving their house.
He's gone now and so is she.

No comments:

Post a Comment