How to Say Goodbye to Blue Who is a Dog
Saturday, January 9, 2022
I will do my part by writing poems.
Blue will do his part by dying.
Blue is our dog.
He may be dying.
The vets aren't sure.
What follows is a poem a day for the rest of his life.
It will be cheesy and overwrought and
I won't revise any entries after the day they're written
and I'm aware of Marley and Me and all the cheesy
overwrought writings about dying dogs and if you
decide this effort is beneath you then you
can fuck off.
Blue is our dog.
I don't normally tell strangers to fuck off.
It's not a funny thing to say, nor a risqué thing to say
but it is honest
because Blue may be dying
and Blue is our dog.
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