Like a Dog (blog from bulletin)

Like a dog covered in mud, muck, grass, water, whatever else dogs get their bodies into and into their bodies, I want my body to convulse and throw off all that slop as a dog does. All my prejudices, all of the infiltration, all of the jealousy, all the numbness, all the sensitivity, all of the muck, grass, water, mud, and whatever I’ve got my body into and what’s gotten into my body and is just clinging to me. What’s weighing me down and trembling beneath my skin that I know isn’t caused from my internals I wanna wag and shake off like a dog. Like a wet, sopping dog that people still love even if it’s dirty, even if it smells like wet-dog, even if it’s big and lanky and doesn’t know what to do with itself, and how it wriggles and wriggles until all of its problems squirm and fly off of it. Then trot my happy way around to get covered in all that muck to wriggle off clean again. The dog that people still pet and scratch and play with and fetch a stick. I want a clear divide from my internals and externals and I don’t need this muck, mud, water, grass, infiltration, jealousy, or anything else trying to seep in and mix them so I can’t just shake it all off like a dog. Shivering off all that slop and trotting my happy way to be pet and scratched and praised.