by Siddiq Islam

i found a dog, a dog named joy, and she was
the ugliest misrablest creature i’d ever seen
her smiles fell limp like wonky rusty seesaws

i told her, ‘all my happy poems are gloomy’
i do not think she quite knew what i mean:
nought but a wonky smile did seep back to me

if dogs could muster poems, joy’s would be the
saddest little heart-wrenchers ever been
and i hope that that accomplishment would please her.