On Saturday, a silky white pedigree

(on sale)

rustles through newspaper behind

the cold glass of the store for mommies.

I pause, thinking about how warm it is inside

but really should be getting to the cleaners'.

How cute, she licked the glass, luring inside

passing crippled children, desperate aging men

(my brothers)

sitting patiently like a proper good dog should,

wagging her done-up tail and slobbering for affection,

(the bitch)

I she AKC registered, I wonder?

I can't, I have things to do,

like get groceries.

I tap the glass in respectful farewell,

inadvertently glancing at the reflection

of a passing woman's hips,

(on sale)

thinking for an instant how she would look

wrapped in newspaper instead of lingeree.