The Difference Between
I was talking to our Hobbo the other day about scratching posts and whether his black Labrador, Dauphy had one and Hobbo retorted, no, but he has a snoring spot.
And I thought: that’s the difference between cats and dogs. Cats have scratching posts, dogs don’t. It seems a little discriminatory.
Cats can work off their frustrations on a post. What’s a dog supposed to do? Max, my granddaughter’s dog, had the answer. Whenever he got frustrated, he would hump his mattress. Not an edifying sight, but it worked for Max.
He was placid as a puddle after that.
Maybe that’s the answer for human beans too. Instead of walloping walls, pummeling pillows or brawling with our besties, we could simply hump our mattress. Or find a snoring spot.
I like them too.
I thought I was a basket case
But there’s this thirteen year old
I read about
Who takes anti-depressants
Two drugs for attention deficit disorder
& she takes what I take too.
I know growing up is tough
But I didn’t know it could be
Tough as this.
I could take other drugs,
Ones that she takes
But the doc reckons I’ve got this far
I can go the rest of the way.
I just hope that little thirteen year old kid
Makes it out of the forest okay.
*photo courtesy of Ulle
It’s not my kryptonite
my Achilles’ Heel
but I know a man
who would rather risk
a heart attack
than give up black licorice
& bechamel sauce
but strips of licorice
& béchamel sauce on flathead,
flounder & blue grenadier.
Why black? I ask. Is it a racial thing?
No, he says. It’s sweeter,
has more of a kick.
But can you kick the habit, I ask.
No, he says. And if I tell the doctor,
he’ll tear strips off me.
Wine, I can understand. Coffee.
Mrs. Kipling’s Salted Caramel Slices
but black licorice?!
How do people end up with such strange addictions?
I wash myself with transcendental soap,
it makes me shine, lathers my hope,
rinses away all my petty needs,
you know the ones: the urge to pee,
to have three square meals, to sleep
it lifts me high, takes me deep
whenever I feel that I’m on the ropes
I wash myself with transcendental soap
Descent into the Maelstrom
* sketch by Harry Clarke to Poe’s classic tale