Read a poem by another poet written
on the same day:

the watch alarm dashes
the dreams not even
fragments left to explore
no ephemeral ghosts even
just a gray crush of
burning eyes a tight hip

the little dog though
he's quite awake
excited happy
ready to take on the day
his little black hairs
scattered across lavender sheets

black flea feces and white eggs
his tail tightly curled
he watches for fleas and
zaps them up his tongue
fast and efficient
like an anteater