Art: “Great Wall and Mushroom Clouds, Run, Baby, Run” by Riikka Fransila
THE ROTTWEILER NEXT DOOR
The Rottweiler next door killed my wife’s pink
Chihuahua, but spat out one ear.
We planted its ear in our flower bed next to
the foxgloves under 3 inches of mulch.
It germinated, sending up coiled fronds 14” high.
At the first rain, it died, the entire spectacle.
It barks at night, or so my wife says. She hears it.
Lorraine, our Mexican maid from Oaxaca,
hears it, too. Her mole won first prize at the Pomona Fair,
taking 1st place for color but 3rd for taste. It was the color
of blood that’s been left out in the sun.
Lorraine calls everyone amigo except me. It’s clear we are
not friends, so she calls me mister or maestro.
She asks me every morning if I’d like some mud. Her ass
is wider than our Maytag. She doesn’t use pot holders
when she removes hot skillets from the stove.
The Rottweiler next door killed my appetite for life. It’s a special
breed bred for violence. He ate our pooch whole, clamping
down on its head and swallowing, as a snake devours a mouse.
Only Judy Collins can mend my heart. Only the past offers
escape. From here on out all our neighbors are Rottweilers.
About the author:
David Lohrey grew up in Memphis. His poetry can be found in Otoliths, Sentinel Literary Quarterly, Easy Street and New London Writers. In addition, recent poems have been anthologized by the University of Alabama (Dewpoint), Illinois State University (Obsidian) and Michigan State University (The Offbeat). Work can also be found in The Stony Thursday Book (Limerick) and Hidden Channel Zine (Mall Sligo). David is a member of the Sudden Denouement Literary Collective in Houston. Recent fiction can be read in Crack the Spine, Brilliant Flash Fiction and Every Writer. He teaches in Tokyo.
Art:
“Great Wall and Mushroom Clouds, Run, Baby, Run” by Riikka Fransila, Helsinki, Finland, @vintageart_originals.