dinner date

when i get home

i see that my dog has been in 

the liquor cabinet again.

he's on the couch,

talking on the phone,

smoking a cigarette

and reading the national

dog show magazine.

he's wearing my good

suit.

where do you think you're going,

i ask him,

as i hold up the near empty

bottle of scotch.

i'm on the phone, he says.

shhhhh.

i'm meeting kitty for dinner

later in the alley.

don't wait up. i'll come

through the door

in the back, and by the way

we're out of purina.

and if you  could, i need help

with my collar,

it's a little tight.