The Afterlife of Dogs
by Katherine Riegel
is where the party’s at, the tail-swinging
nose-first howl of a time we all dream of
deep in the old houses of our animal bodies
where the earth is so close we can taste
puppyhood again. The dance floor’s
all play bows and prancing and neck
bites and there ain’t no food table
just big bowls of chicken and sausages
refilling themselves forever.
The afterlife of dogs stretches huge
across every idea of heaven
and the doors stand open to any
size or shape, breed or color. Maybe you
can fly in your afterlife and that’s ok
but you’re going to want to lie down
in the dogs’ meadow where the sun
warms fur and the smells are winged
jewels everyone can see. I’ll tell you
the truth, I can’t remember when I
didn’t fear suffering, when the future
didn’t seem like a steamroller-sized mail truck
loaded with danger on glossy cardstock.
I try to remember my body’s the fucking galaxy
and so is yours. And long after this
trudge through the sleet in too-thin shoes
may something of us still be around
to watch all the good boys and good girls
roll and shake on the bank of the river of stars.
nose-first howl of a time we all dream of
deep in the old houses of our animal bodies
where the earth is so close we can taste
puppyhood again. The dance floor’s
all play bows and prancing and neck
bites and there ain’t no food table
just big bowls of chicken and sausages
refilling themselves forever.
The afterlife of dogs stretches huge
across every idea of heaven
and the doors stand open to any
size or shape, breed or color. Maybe you
can fly in your afterlife and that’s ok
but you’re going to want to lie down
in the dogs’ meadow where the sun
warms fur and the smells are winged
jewels everyone can see. I’ll tell you
the truth, I can’t remember when I
didn’t fear suffering, when the future
didn’t seem like a steamroller-sized mail truck
loaded with danger on glossy cardstock.
I try to remember my body’s the fucking galaxy
and so is yours. And long after this
trudge through the sleet in too-thin shoes
may something of us still be around
to watch all the good boys and good girls
roll and shake on the bank of the river of stars.
Katherine Riegel is the author of Love Songs from the End of the World (Main Street Rag Press 2019), the chapbook Letters to Colin Firth (Sundress Publications), and two more books of poetry. Her work has appeared in Brevity, The Gettysburg Review, One, Orion, Poets.org, and elsewhere. She is co-founder and managing editor of Sweet Lit, and teaches online classes in poetry and creative nonfiction. Find her at katherineriegel.com.