Notes from New Sodom

... rantings, ravings and ramblings of strange fiction writer, THE.... Sodomite Hal Duncan!!

Thursday, November 24, 2005

For Kore

No eager eyes watching my every swallow,
Willing the crisps to leap into a stomach always hollow;
Crumbs fall and lie forgotten on the floor.
No circling round me as I stand, lead in my hand, at the front door.

No barking at the tiny horses on the TV screen,
Or at a call of "Squirrels!". No more of that daft, delightful scene.
No more T-Rex impersonations, trying to snatch a bone,
No more chasing around from room to room around your home.

No more paws crossed so dainty as she lay
There, quiet, calm and dignified, waiting for snacks, the Kore Tax we'd pay.
I washed her bowls today, put them away;
No more food, no more water and no more, no more, no more to say.

But still, a million hairs on all the curtains, carpets, clothes --
A million memories that mean she's always close.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

i feel for you, man. it's only sadness when they're gone.

10:11 pm  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hi Al,
Dave from work here. I'm really sorry to hear about Kore. She was a smasher. I hope all is well with you.
Take care,

9:13 am  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

you'll find hairs from her years in a row. and when you walk the street you'll find yourself pausing and thinking of turning around to look for her. and once in a while you'll suddenly remember that you forgot to feed her today.
and after a long time you'll discover you can look at the others, barking and running and wondering, without pain, just the memories will be there.
and still she'll know she was loved.

4:18 pm  

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