Adding Names to a Dog

It is all I can do at times when I see you
to not fall in love because you are so handsome,
It is all I can do at times when I see you
to not giggle in glee at how quirky you are.
You arrived clumsily, drunk on beers you keep hidden,
giving new names to a dog I’d known for seven months.
You arrived on the shoulder of a man who is never happy,
a man who needed to be happy.
You arrived lazily, not trying too hard
because you are so handsome.

I am not trying to covet, failing to think
about things that are not you.
I am losing myself in daydreams,
kissing boys who look like you, boys who are you,
but not so much you that I’d blush when you smile.
But I blush when you smile.

You are forcing me to recoil and giggle,
return to dreams that I have been the one to discover you.
My friendships in jeopardy, I struggle.
My friendships melting away, I want you to kiss me
the way I remember kissing you in my mind.
I want you to arrive at my door, drunk on beer
not trying too hard because you are quirky and handsome,
and when you smile I will blush.

Notes

Written 26 March 2008 in Anchorage, Alaska.

Brian Fuchs, “Adding Names to a Dog” from Okie Dokie (Scissortail Press, 2019)