Something Paris

He wanted to take her to Paris,
and to take the Orient Express.
He said they’d never climbed
the Himalayas like they’d
promised one another
when they married.

She always replied: You tell
the dog, Honey.

He would tell her they could
afford the boarding fees.
“Those places are so much
nicer these days. He’d have his
toys!” And then he’d look down
at Bogie sleeping and say to her,
“We’re giving up our lives!”

And she’d smile, saying: You
tell the dog.

He never mentioned it to Bogie
who slept most of his days and
nights with simple wants like
water and a bone, who’d grown
older since the man of the house
began talking so often of something
Paris and something Orient.
And the man would say, “Of course,
I love him. I’d never do anything
that would be bad for him.”

And the woman would say: Tell the dog,
my love.

 

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