UNTITLED

I was driving down main
street when I saw dad
come running from
a lawn with a leaf
rake in his hand
he was grinning and
his red beard was
glossy in the sun
I pulled over under
the sweet gum tree
where he was raking
up the the bommyknockers
a spiny type of seed ball
he had been watching me
rescue a girl who had
lost her way in Ramona
he told me Pumpkin our
red chow had died last
summer on august 17
said she had gotten worms
real bad and became bloated
died in a driveway across
from his trailer
Pumpkin had lived to
the ripe old age of
112 in canine years
dad and old truck bob
gave her a proper "burial at
creek" off of the the newest
bridge in southern washington
county on the south fork
of double creek
he said the maggots and
smell were awful and bob
was pretty pissed
and nearly vomited
but understood that
the job had to be done
ashes to ashes
dog carcass
to catfish