A Dog Named Insomnia

I wonder why he cannot sleep.

Perhaps because he had his balls

cut off when he was still a child.

I’ve heard that dogs dream

in black and white; I wonder

if their dreams are like watching

“The Munsters” on TV (and if so,

are they burdened with commercials?

That would be a nightmare).

He misses his friend, Sleepy the Cat,

who died when she was hit

by a brand new car.

Luckily, the driver was drunk.

He didn’t stop, apologize,

or remember the accident.

That way he could move on

without feeling guilt’s speed bump,

and resume the destructive dance

of his wayward, foolish life.

And yet, I did say sorry

to the dog for squashing

his beloved friend and hiccoughed

through a creek of tears

as we sat down on the couch

and watched TV

and drank our weight

in beer.


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