During the week when it was all going to end, the dog died. 

 

I had to bury the dog and then it all had to keep going 

                                                     it always has to keep going 

 

and

 

the dog is buried and the world still hasn’t stopped spinning. 

 

The dog is buried                    maybe always was               always I 

 

am the one who buried the dog             with the shovel            heavy 

 

as a giant in my arms.                            I buried it           buried it

                                                                   buried it             god, 

 

I buried it. Dog died quiet asleep and just stayed asleep 

                                               sometimes that just happens. 

 

It doesn’t matter how the dirt is if the dog needs to be buried 

 

so I just              buried it            buried it             buried it

 

and 

 

the dog is buried           has become dirt                     I always 

 

am the one burying the dog              the shovel        the dirt 

 

the wheelbarrow              I was all of it at one moment 

 

during the week when everything was supposed to end.