pet names
We lost our first pet last summer.
She was a blue,
kind of gray,
wasp of a cat.
A botched surgery
when she was a kitten.
She shot a mist of snot
when she breathed out
and always found a way
to sneeze in our faces.
We always called her snotty
or snotty girl or please don't
sneeze in my face again.
You gave everything extra names.
You told me how more names
means more love.
With our four remaining cats
and one dog that acted like a cat,
Summer became a whirlwind of names:
Darling, Stormy, Pooba, Poobs, Bug,
Noodle, Onny, Jupy,
Tiny Moon, Big Moon, and Duck.
Five times five names and
five more in the morning.
Before bed we placed
our wedding rings
on the wooden box they
gave us our girl in.
Then we whispered close names
while we squished each other
tight like stuffed animals.
Fall came and names began to fall.
Fall came and the names
crunched like leaves under us.
Fall came and I tried
to rake them all up.
Fall came and I crammed them
coarse and gray
in kitchen bags
while you packed yours.
Fall came and you called me
so many names that
I forgot mine.
