Whiner by Bruce Michael Foley

crying

WHINER

Not like me to forget the milk
when the bottle pours dry.

Resigned, I am, to fetch the papers
as long as my favorite chair is left empty.
Slippers neatly set aside and at the ready.

You can teach an old dog new tricks
depending on the offered reward.

Everybody, is in it for something.

Loyalty is not stupidity
with shelter, food, a daily brushing,
walks in the park and a familiar tree to piss on.

It’s no fur off his back, to jump up and sit in your lap,
play chase and go fetch the ball.

To make it work, we all have to do something for others.

Even cats know enough to cover up their own shit
and yet, after all these years, I still must stoop
to wipe your ass?

indexI was born across the bridge from Boston, Massachusetts, in Cambridge, as July 4th fireworks exploded over the Charles River, just a stone’s throw from Harvard University. At age two, my family moved to Somerville, Ma.,where I was raised in a rough blue-collar environment, playing many sports. In 1998 I relocated to Las Vegas, Nevada. Here, I work among special needs children and teach martial arts. Poetry began in high school, but took off in a more dedicated way in later years, along with resuming music studies, guitar. My poems are published in various anthologies; including Impressions, Prism, and the Mighty Voices Of Thunder Series, sponsored by the international poetry website, “Allpoetry.” I was a featured poet in Lyrical Somerville February 2015, a Boston based publication, as well as being an “Editor’s Front Page Pick,” for the month of March 2016 on Allpoetry. A defining moment that contributed significantly to further interest in writing was a First Place Award from the International Poetry Fellowship, for my poem, “Among Fields of Cotton.” Presently, I am happy to have the opportunity to explore various forms of poetry with Mr. Bruce Isaacson, Poet Laureate of Clark County Nevada.

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