The Other One Waits At Home<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I\u2019ve let the dog down. But please, Dog, sleep. <\/em> <\/p>\n Frances McCue<\/a> is a writer and poet<\/a> living in Seattle, where she is writer-in-residence at the University of Washington’s Undergraduate Honors Program. She was the founding director of Richard Hugo House <\/a>from 1996 to 2006. McCue is the author of The Stenographer’s Breakfast, <\/a><\/em>winner of the Barnard New Women Poets Prize, The Car That Brought You Here Still Runs: \u00a0Revisiting the Northwest Towns of Richard Hugo,<\/a><\/em> with photographer Mary Randlett (University of Washington Press), and The Bled\u00a0<\/a><\/em>(Factory Hollow Press),\u00a0winner of the 2011 Washington State Book Award and the2011 Grub Street Book Prize.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The Other One Waits At Home I\u2019ve let the dog down. Late with meals and walks, I\u2019m dog-deep in woeful starts to make things better. Not easy, this life– the way it swings along: Sore dog. Happy dog. Folly … Continue reading
\nLate with meals and walks,
\nI\u2019m dog-deep in woeful starts
\nto make things better.
\nNot easy, this life–
\nthe way it swings along:
\nSore dog. Happy dog.
\nFolly of my needs.
\n\u201cLove us,\u201d we say.
\n\u201cWe command you.\u201d
\nHer head nuzzles into
\nthe corner of my arm.
\nShe shivers along
\nshanks and withers
\nand sings far below
\nour frequency,
\npinging along:
\n\u201cdog-dog-dog,\u201d
\nall muzzle and chop,
\nclick click, chomp.<\/em><\/p>\n
\nI\u2019m tired too. Fetch
\nthe dream life that tilts
\nany past askew.
\nForgive me through
\nall these lacks and
\nI\u2019ll forgive you
\nyour drool and shits and
\nother indignities
\nof the expressionless.
\nGive me time to set it right.
\nI\u2019ll roam the yards, flip
\nthe cans, turn
\nwoman-howler
\nthrough the bark-less,
\nhot twilight.
\nYou rest.<\/p>\n