This the Real Love Song to the Unknown, I Held a Dying

By Michael Cooper

dog on the day of her job interview

her fishbowl too much
for me to bear walking by—nothing happens
here—we hold hands and pretend we are ok like

the air that hangs between her lungs and mine isn’t
poison she
peers in like quadraphonic sound

this is the revolution back to now on the turntable of the sky
I am kissed by her hand and the heat reddens

my cheek each of my bus transfers requires a few more numb senses

we linger just past the point
where reconciliation with my parents is possible and
now

you dear standing there with
our neighbors wet fucking dog leaking blood into the carpet we are
two Japanese fighting fish

that stare at each other—mirrors—floating upside
down
in two separate bowls.