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Dogs dressed as other animals The gauze that hangs over houses reminds me of sickness   The church does confessions by appointment I know a priest is not a therapist   I am not religious Just somebody tell me I’m their favourite   I am ashamed of the lengths I’d go to Red leaves spin where I kick them   She orders us coffee I see the pale part of her gums, we leave the café separately   Come November, cut pumpkins will rot from the inside On the stoop they bear it   I buy gourds from the market I will build a cornucopia To desire begets indignity   So what, I’ve permitted this much I’d let her tell me the same story over again   Young acorns underfoot Another dog knows it’s been made to look the small fool