dear Dr. Frank,

when i think of two
dogs jostling for a stick
in the park, i get this
curious ache in my arm,
around the bicep. i have
no dog, yet it seems a
part of me holds leashes
            and the leashes are taut
                        and the bark park fence
                        strains and the small dogs
            squeal like piglets in mud.
if i’m not anywhere
in particular, with any
particular thoughts
i am at the bark park.

i think (hope) this is all
perfectly normal. suppose
we could medicate it away. . .
            but the window’s down, doc!
            i hang my head out!
            i lap up the breeze! i bark
            at passing cars! perhaps
                        in our next appointment
                        we’ll find out these are all
                        past-life memories. me,
                        a dumb-old, free-old, happy
                                    old dog.

see you thursday afternoon,
Teddy