OLD DOG
LJ Pemberton

                    (1997–2014)

to be honest I used to wish he would die the way you wish dinner would
be ready

you know the kind of wish you know will be fulfilled someday but you
don't know when and then he almost did die in the winter when he fell
over from a heart attack and I picked him up and held him as his eyes
asked me what was wrong and I cried over him with his body against my
chest until he stood again with less vigor and less life and I knew it was
only a matter of time before he would fall and not get up

I don't wish for things that are inevitable anymore because dinner will
be ready when it is ready and my old dog left me when his body was
done and wishes are really just ways to say I am tired of how things are

I know better, now, than to resent what I love






Originally from Georgia, LJ Pemberton is a writer / artist / futurist living in Los Angeles, California. Her essays, poetry, and award-winning stories have been featured in the Los Angeles Review, PANK, Hobart, Cobalt, VICE, the Brooklyn Rail, and elsewhere. Her photography has been featured by Metro Los Angeles and Dream Air Travel. Her (yet unpublished) novel, STARBOI, is a queer tale of obsession and heartbreak set in the recent past. Find out more at ljpemberton.com.



Previous Poem  Table of Contents  Next Poem