To The Rescue 

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​The dog knows because
dogs know. They know things.
Like pitches at odd frequencies,
and when ghosts are around,
and that skid knees need licking,
and that leashes are chains,
and that chained leashes are not cool.

She sees me on this bench,
a dangling cigarette just lit,
and though she’s suspicious of me,
she knows that animals, especially dogs,
are on earth to pop up out of nowhere
and stop suicides.
And specifically, that I’m not really suicidal;
I just want to pet her.
So, she walks up despite the smoke.

I’m not sure if she’s anybody’s.
She’s not chained and doesn’t have any tags
and I’m not sure what kind of dog she is
but she’s well-groomed and isn’t in heat.  

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