The Sacred Burial of a Dog
During the week when it was all going to end, the dog died.
I had to bury the dog and then it all had to keep going
it always has to keep going
the dog is buried and the world still hasn’t stopped spinning.
The dog is buried maybe always was always I
am the one who buried the dog with the shovel heavy
as a giant in my arms. I buried it buried it
buried it god,
I buried it. Dog died quiet asleep and just stayed asleep
sometimes that just happens.
It doesn’t matter how the dirt is if the dog needs to be buried
so I just buried it buried it buried it
the dog is buried has become dirt I always
am the one burying the dog the shovel the dirt
the wheelbarrow I was all of it at one moment
during the week when everything was supposed to end.
C.D. Bailey is a poet from Portsmouth, Ohio. His debut chapbook, Bastard can be purchased through books for freaks made by freaks.