Forgiveness is a bitch.


A whiny dog that paws and claws at me

scratches my legs raw

begs me to pick it up and play


but when I bow my head and bend to grab it

it flees back to its cage

and can’t be coaxed back out.


Most days I forget to feed it

I leave it whimpering in the corner of a steel cell

it reaches for me

tries to guilt me with big brown eyes

but I ignore its pleas and go on my way.


There are the few days a year when right after the Catholic mass

I attend with my grandmother

I feel as if I should give forgiveness a chance

and see how it could transform my life

or so the priest says


but when I finally get a hold on it

it squirms its way out of my grasp

and yips at the most ear-piercing pitch

whacks me with its reproachful tail


I’m giving up.


I’ll continue to live my remorseless life

I was never much good with animals anyways.