the dog door

you hear the dogs
barking
up and down the street.
the rustle
of bushes,
and trash can
lids falling
like cymbals
against each other.
then you see
her, your neighbor,
Irma, home from
drinking and dancing
all night, now
crawling
through
the dog door
on her knees.
your own dog
goes over to her
and lick
her face.
wrong house? she
says. I'm not
sure, you answer,
we'll see.