Edna St. Vincent Millay

Lone Wolf Poet: Episode 41

essay cover chalice

“Why Dogs Hate Vets”
Based on a Real Dream

Edna St. Vincent Millay is a veterinarian,
Who with unendeavored confidence seeks
Proper Yankee out of a delectable Italian
Accent while she regards the mutt Sin-

Clearly’s been fostering and now wishes to
Make his and his wife’s own, as they have
A curious way of falling for misfit hearts
Born to be denned. [She outlined her stature

Upon metering into the examination room, eyes
Stressed downward to the prostrate mutt, his tail
Rising and falling dactylically enough to cause
The fear-shed hairs of past appointmented breeds

To become wee whirls out on the tiles: “I am
Edna St. Vincent Millay, I am t’ one bē-lone
Here ably ā-quipped to zense tease tings out
With talents of enprivatised ā-motion—” Sin-

Clearly interrupted there: “I’ve never read you
To give a flying—” I talked up in my sleep there:
“I apologize for his sleeper truth.” (Only later
I’d find my words woke the wife.)] Her eyes

Ascend into theirs: “A distease t’ poet zenses
By zense bē-lone conveerms in deregardance
Of t’ teets of zience.” Now with her pointing
Finger – in obvious regard to the splayed mutt

– Edna St. Vincent Millay slashes her own throat,
And in a near logically contained Italian temper,
She bleeds out crushed tomatoes but does not die;
And we are all like, What a real shitty thing to do.

 

This is wannabe John Hospodka’s bi-weekly instructional blog.

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