Poem #7: Questions My Dog Asks

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The dog and I are locked in the little TV room,
and he's trying to tell me
THERE'S SOMEONE MAKING A HORRIBLE NOISE IN THE LIVING ROOM
That's Patti the cleaning lady, I try to tell him.
She's filling a bag she has in that machine
with about a pound of the hair you've shed since December.
BUT THERE'S SOMEONE IN THE LIVING ROOM
I know, I try to tell him, it's OK,
we're not in any danger, I won't let her
vacuum you, and he looks at me
with even more concern and tries to ask me
THAT THING WHAT IS THAT THING MAKING ALL THE NOISE
and I remind myself
that I if I made this noise myself
a little more often
I wouldn't now be spending
most of my morning locked in a small room
with an agitated dog
asking so many questions.
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