A show for Dogs

by Pamela

yes, yes it’s ‘final’
and you’re
“going back to the dust”
– so I’ve been told
but it doesn’t seem to change much

doesn’t seem to change the fact
that I’d rather be dragged
kicking and screaming
in utter undeniable undiluted reluctance
than go willingly
to that show of you
being sprinkled into water

in front of strangers
along with mumbo jumbo ritual ashes
and a load of stranger’s eyes
gleaming and glaring and pity partying
(at the request of one certain)
among themselves
Yes you strangers should be on a different boat.

doesn’t seem to change the fact
that I cannot get my mind around
that grey brown powder
that blew in the wind towards us
that was in a ridiculous purple box
was you

and it is one of the only times
I wonder
why humans get attached.