POEM: New York City Dogs

I remember the guy at the door
He had a gray slash in his hair
Like some ancient super hero.
He carried two spindly dogs
He said they belonged to his grandmother
But that he could no longer keep them.
Apparently their names were Skip and Zip
After her favourite wrestlers.
I took them in
Renamed them Hell and Verlaine
And loved them completely.

Hell died alone
Me and a girl stayed away for three days of hotel sex
And when we returned
He was just bones and maggots.
We buried him outside in an unmarked grave
And put a plastic bone on the dirt to say goodbye.

Verlaine stayed with me for years
Saw me through tiny highs and epic lows.
Laid with me as I shivered
Looked at me with oceanic eyes and I smiled again.
We walked miles through the city each day
Girls stopped to talk to him
I used that to my advantage
Fixing up dates thanks to my dogs wagging tail.

After Verlaine died
Run over by a drunken driver
Everything in the city turned black and white
Not in a cool pop art way,
In a real way.
I got tired
I never walked
Stayed home with books
Never ventured out
Never kissed another girl.
Man, i miss those hounds!

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