She Plays

She Plays

By: James Dubeau

She smiles

Blissfully unaware

Of the world around her

Laughing at it all

Seeing life as nothing

But a joke

Even amongst the squalor

The debris

The filth

Even as the lights go dim

When the power is shutoff

Silencing air conditioner

Refrigerator

And TV alike

She was sad

For only the briefest of moments

Before returning to chores

Cleaning the kitchen table

Slowly

One item at a time

Five minutes between each

While scolding the puppy

Who drags her shoes

Across the house

Which should have been put away

Days before

But he keeps tugging shoes

She tries to pull away

With a gleam in his eye

Thinking she’s playing

While she laughs and yells

And perhaps even the dog knows

Behind the mock anger

She truly is

Just playing

Smart Little Dog

Smart Little Dog
By: James Dubeau

What do you do
When I’m not around
Oh you smart little dog
Do you sit on my couch
And chew on the cushions
Oh you smart little dog
Or do you play nice and
Sit at the bottom of the stairs
Oh you smart little dog

That's My Dog

I was walking down the street, leash in hand, taking my dog out for a walk. It was a sunny day and the few birds in the sky were chirping their hearts out. A puffy white cloud or two floated by, one of which looked surprisingly a lot like a ’57 Chevy.

A cute blonde was roller-skating towards me. Well, cute is more an understatement. Her skates were filled with long tan legs that reached all the way up to black spandex running shorts. Her taught stomach glistened with sweat which dripped from a crimson sports bra. A smile arose on her lips as she approached and her eyes scanned me from top to bottom. “Aww, what a cute puppy you have,” she said with a giggle as she approached.

I mumbled a thanks and smiled. We started talking about puppies and the weather, you know, that kind of stuff you talk about when you don’t know someone well enough to strike up a real conversation. There the moment that I was dreading came to a head. A “hurk, hurk, hurk,” came from below us. As we both looked down, horrified, my dog barfed all over her skates. “Yep,” I said as he started to lick the vomit up, “that’s my dog.”