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Crazy

into_the_wild

Dreams are what you wake up from.

14 years of Livejournalling, and hopefully, more to come.


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Crazy
into_the_wild

:: Your Dog Dies ::



:: Your Dog Dies ::

it gets run over by a van.
you find it at the side of the road
and bury it.
you feel bad about it.
you feel bad personally,
but you feel bad for your daughter
because it was her pet,
and she loved it so.
she used to croon to it
and let it sleep in her bed.
you write a poem about it.
you call it a poem for your daughter,
about the dog getting run over by a van
and how you looked after it,
took it out into the woods
and buried it deep, deep,
and that poem turns out so good
you're almost glad the little dog
was run over, or else you'd never
have written that good poem.
then you sit down to write
a poem about writing a poem
about the death of that dog,
but while you're writing you
hear a woman scream
your name, your first name,
both syllables,
and your heart stops.
after a minute, you continue writing.
she screams again.
you wonder how long this can go on.

-- Raymond Carver --

With no tears and a silent scream that goes on forever,
I realised, how very wickedly punny.


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other than how wickedly punny you think it is, what else do you think about it? and why this poem.

talk more on msn.

The death of a pet is indeed sad. I feel sad.

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