Man’s Best Friend

I sit addled by that dizziness
that creeps from the mind,
rests upon shoulders.

It crawls the scalp.

Like a black dog
tied to a dying crab apple tree,
the sun’s anger burning,
flies disappear its ears and
eyes, ants cut off its paws,
fleas taking it all in.

Too weak for suicidal daydreams,
wondering if there’s still bite.

The dog lies, belly down, and
waits for the sky to bring water.

I don’t think the dog has a name.

I lay with the dog,
tied to the fading past,

we’re forgotten together.