By Isabel Brown

 Bryan Zepeda’s Lazy Dog Days

 

The ode to my dog

That bounces 

On imaginary balloons

Of naiveté. 

 

The ode to my dog

That rests at my side 

With a joyous jingle 

Around the neck. 

 

The ode to my dog 

That plops onto my chest 

And looks upon me

Like they are eternally present. 

 

Allow the three heads

to nibble at my bones

Shall I ever stumble

And perish into dust. 

 

The three heads may not remember 

To say their farewells

And whimper 

all the way home

 

And sleep in my scent. 

I will stay, I will cry-

But will hold each head close

As a fracturing ghost.