lulu's gas pedal

lulu’s gas pedal is stuck to the floor,

melded, more like,

in kinetic fusion—

her tiny dog body is a

particle accelerator bottleneck through which the whole of

cosmic dogness passes each and every second,

a pulsing dog life in a ricochet of time

except when she sleeps

black hole tumbling inward

onto the warm laundry pile in God’s basement

simply gone, a moment’s peace

so short