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Great Joy
It was an old, quiet horse, the color of gray corduroy, or child's clay, those elephant slabs wrapped in wax paper that Reston remembered from classrooms in his childhood. Six months earlier the horse had been delivered to the pasture out back of Reston's trailer, and it had taken four men to coax her from the truck. She didn't kick or fuss, but simply refused to budge. Reston had paid 100 dollars for the horse to save it from being put down. He had inherited his ex-girlfriend's pathological weakness for downtrodden animals of all kinds, and he had a dog
Fido the Pimp
Crotches are rarely sniffed or nuzzled within the first five minutes of a first date, yet even with ten first dates occurring simultaneously in a crowded Warehouse District coffee shop, this was no ordinary dating scenario. The distracting backdrop of panting, whining, pawing, and the occasional licking of naughty bits, in fact, might evoke thoughts of Roman orgies, or at least fond memories of a certain notorious Viking-laden pleasure cruise.
An Appalling Group Hug, A Poem, And Two Love Letters To My Dogs
I have seen the sun break through
to illuminate a small field
for a while, and gone my way
and forgotten it. But that was the pearl
of great price, the one field that had
treasure in it. I realize now
that I must give all that I have
to possess it. Life is not hurrying
