hungover and awakening
to the neighbor’s asshole dog

staring at me
then barking at me
as i lift kitchen blinds

coffee-less
with the scent of stale vodka and wine
burning my nostrils

my head a cartography
of potholes and fill-in-the-blanks
from the previous evening

the way it stands there
bouncing
yapping
cold black eyes
white muppet face

owning my aural landscape
until it condescends to forget me
and take its shit

the mutt’s owner
shrugging down an apology
while playing on his cell phone

i shut the blind
and return myself
into the pale gray blue
of lightless linoleum

and know
that while not all humans
commit murder

all humans must surely understand
the pure pleasure involved

in murderous intent.