Wednesday, October 9, 2013

poem of the day 10.09.13


hack job

he calls my wife
while we’re on 3rd avenue
drinking root beer and  ginger beer
in the hot autumn sun

the cat is ready, my wife says

when we pick her up
she starts meowing and hissing
clawing at the cage
at the sound of our voices

the cat groomer is too scared
to put her in the carrier

maybe you should do it, he lisps

so i do
without looking at the shave job

i couldn’t do her legs, he whines
she just wouldn’t let me

the cat is fifteen years-old
half-blind
with kidney problems

…but okay

we apologize and pay the man
while a bichon frise barks and whines
because it knows it’s next in line

when we get home
we see that all four of the animal’s legs
are unevenly shaved
and there are clumps of fur all over her body

jesus, look what that queen did to her
i say to my wife

we could’ve done this kind of damage ourselves, she says

if this weren’t such a horrible hack job
it would almost be funny
but this motherfucker got eighty-dollars out of us

i should go up there and complain, my wife says
go on yelp and rip his business a new one

as the cat prances around the room
like a bad shag rug from 1976
like a dancer with two different go-go boots on

what good would it do? i say
what’s done is done

i think about the ginger beer and root beer
that we were unable to finish

consolation prizes for not drinking for two days

that was four more dollars
that cat groomer caused us

i think i should probably go up there
and fix his ass good
save that bichon frise from the same fate

i mean eighty-fours bucks is no slouch

but it’s too goddamned hot
this late in the year

and i’m thinking today might be the day
where i start drinking again

after all.

                                   

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