kennel guillotine

cower: harried cot

the only cover

from excrement steeped

nail beds that shiver

into hookworm claws

and up, up, up ‘til

our eyes lock—a pause,

sounds: “we’re overfilled”—

then the guillotine door

drops, splits my kennel in

in two, I’m never

underneath, either

looking in or in-

side out. peace comes from

a noose. I forfeit

my head for the wiles

of treats, my throat now

gorged and constricted

by one jerk. down, down,

down new latches click

behind me, my rope

trails—suddenly light—

claws are leaves that snap

when they’re stepped on. I

relieve myself into a bone shaped pool—

empty—looking out, I fill it myself.