Today things will be pretty straightforward: a poem about an animal, they say. It can be only one.
Challenge 23: “I’d like to challenge you today to write a poem about an animal.”
Oh my dog I talk to you. Probably I never talked to anybody as much as I talk to you. You are here and I am here and we have each other to talk to. Sometimes I drive with you in the back and it’s stressful enough to drive around Rome but then I have to park too so I offer it to you, this part. You seem so fresh and eager. You always wish to take my worries away, melt my sorrow, lick my wounds. Especially the ones you caused. I started explaining to you when you were little what would happen next, where we were going, who was coming over, so now you count on it. For your birthday my mother wrote you a poem. Not a poem, a rap, she is a rapper. And you were staring into the speakers as my mom was rapping, alert, without a move, fully confident that it was for you. I tried many things when you were little: showing you five fingers for a five-minute wait, both hands for ten, and both hands twice for twenty, and if I did this last you lied down because clearly the wait would be long. I hid behind a tree for you to find me. I waited for quite a while and then you came strolling by from the other side as if asking: “Coming?” The way you find things I lose. I started to count on that. The last time was a button by the road. Before doing the same walk the next day I showed you the remaining buttons on my coat, looked into your eyes and said: “See? One is missing. Will you find it for me?” And we walked to the station. I looked down left and right, and thought it impossible to find that button again and grew discouraged and stopped looking, but then you stopped to smell a dandelion and what was there next to it if not my button? And I laughed and cheered and hugged you and you showed surprise again: “What did I do?” You do. Keep doing what you do so well. Live. Love. Smell the dandelions.
The photos are pretty straightforward too, of our good life. Listen to this advice if it’s all you ever do: get a dog.