Dog Fight

A Crone Poem

“When I rise my breakfast is solitary, the black dog waits to share it, from breakfast to dinner he continues barking...”
― Samuel Johnson

Didn't take too long 'fore I found out
What people mean by down and out
—Black Dog, Led Zeppelin

I have a friend
who sees each morning
as wonder and joy
a fresh start
a blank slate
another chance

I envy her

Lately I have
tried channeling
this concept
I wake up
and I say
(out loud) 
“FRESH START!”

Fake it til you make it, baby,
and all that
But I have always been
a terrible faker

Here is the truth
of most every day:
I wake up
without an alarm
alarmed nonetheless
to two black dogs
one in my head
the other in my face

Each dog has
its own routine
unwavering
The Black Dog
in my head
is all, like, 
“Oh Chris almighty
not this again.
What is the goddamned point?”

Then the other Black Dog
the one in my face
(Called—aptly— Mercy)
starts in with her
wordless retort
all big pink tongue
and tangled limbs
conveying quite clearly
“Holy shit!
This again!
Can you believe it?
Can you believe it?
Can you can you can you?
OH MY GOD 
WE’RE ALIVE
LET’S PLAY!!”

Once
very long ago
I visited a convent
where a handful of ancient nuns
kept mini horses 
and prayed aloud in the afternoon
I sat in the chapel 
and listened to
their call and response
call and response

My two Black Dogs
stare each other down
in 
The Chapel called Morning
(The Chapel called Mourning)
Barking back and forth
back and forth
Unlike the nuns
There is no harmony

This is a duel

The Black Dog in my head
is very old—
as old as me
so, like
four hundred and twenty seven
in dog years
Really, at this point
she should be
curled up,
arthritic
unmoving and silent
save for slow deep snoring
on the worn out 
old rag rug
of my heart

But she is feisty still
digs in
dead weight
very nearly 
unbudgeable
irritated with the
clumsy puppy that is
galloping round the mattress
not seeing but sensing
the glum one inside
licking my face
like it’s a Tootsie Pop
Like she will
get to the center
and she will
aim her sparkly puppy dog eyes
into the old one’s anxious eyes
and she will
convince her
sad elder
to
“COME OUTSIDE
AND PLAY!”

This battle
rages daily
it is
a deadlock
it is
my dread lock
I am stuck here
in my crate of anxiety
As the Black Dog inside my head
pushes her nose
beneath the 
couch of despair
and emerges with
a list
(much gnawed upon)
of this past week’s sins
a slobber stained page of
all the errors I’ve made
the wrongs I’ve done
the latest reasons I am (still)
Going to Hell

The Black Dog in my face
has me pinned
eighty-one pounds of
HELL YEAH!
WE’RE ALIVE!
And
GET UP GET UP GET UP
As she wags
her entire butt

I try to move my legs
Get my feet on the floor
The Black Dog inside my head
says
“Not so fast
We haven’t yet revisited 
Your past crimes—
Remember that time 
in 1973…”

Butt Butt Butt!
goes the Black Dog in my face
interrupting the litany
of my countless trespasses 
her windshield wiper tail
whipping back and forth
wiping it all away

“Mercy!” I cry
By which I mean
both
the puppy
and 
LORD HELP ME
(though in truth
I do not trust
in god
I only trust
in dog)

At last 
The Black Dog in my face
wears down
the old bitch in my head
Dam
Mercy
Dam
Mercy
Call
Response
Call 
Response

How I hate
the mornings
Mercy! I cry
(I cry for mercy)
I get up
at last
I need to
walk these dogs

For fun I recorded myself reading the poem with PoPo audibly snoring in the background.

JOY & BEAUTY DEPARTMENT

THE LAWN MOWER REPORT

Well someone put too much oil in the push mower and now someone has to teach herself how to change a spark plug. Fortunately, someone also has a rider mower so she got to mow anyway.

NOTES

Thanks for being here. Bonus thanks for those of you with a paid subscription. It really helps. If you’re enjoying this weekly offering on the regular, please consider a paid subscription. For $30 per year you make a real difference in my life, and hopefully I make a difference in yours. Plus all paid subscribers are Honorary Tiny T Ranch Hands.

IMMINENT WORKSHOPS

July 21 10 am til noon San Marcos Public Library FREE just show up.

July 21 1:30-3:30 Cherrywood Community Center. ($20 suggested) just show up.

August 2 10 am - 1 pm Ranch Writing Day. ($20 suggested) Please register here.

PUBLIC READING

On Wednesday August 6 at 7 pm, I am hosting a reading at Hyde Park Theatre featuring several members of my various workshops. Hoping to turn this into an ongoing series. To avoid ridiculous fees charged by various ticket platforms, I am selling tickets directly. Please email me: spikegillespie@gmail.com to get your tickets. $10 each. It’s a small room so it will sell out. Don’t wait!