The Regret Dog

Old man, bent back and body
pulled by a dog his same size (longly)
crosses me on the street, cursing
slumped down, angry
somehow looking for a fight
but his perfect Shepherd (in all ways)
keeps him keeping on, one foot in front of the other.

Already past me he twists his twisted neck
in another swift rictus of fuck off
and then on he staggers
leaving me to wonder where a dog
learns that and where a dog like that
can be had and for how much?

Most teenagers could use one.
All drunk drivers.
Boys who promise to pull out.
Girls who promise they took that pill.
Men in front of children
in the moment of pulling back a fist.
A hand against a head against a wall.
A razor amongst fingers released.

The regret dog knows us just a moment better.