#jack edit

Abraham Takes His Dog Out Back 

He gets down on his knees in front of me 

doe eyes wide, somehow still naive down

the barrel of the gun. 

Like a dog stood waiting at my door,

like the bird between its teeth,

like he’s brought me a gift 

and the gift is something dying. 

I’m holding the gun in my hands

still holding the gun in my hands

how animal is this grief that I will rip

myself to shreds over tasteless prey 

and call it hunting.

Why did no one take me out back

with a gun

before I could be the one doing the shooting.

Then it wouldn’t be suicide.

And put me down gently, it wouldn’t be murder.

God’s watching

but it’s the angel I care about seeing this.

Look away.

Close your eyes, 

look away.

And still my dog kneels, gazing up at me,

smiling,