Untitled no. 31

Putting my book down and turning off the light
I suddenly remembered yellow dog piss
boring a hole in the perfect rug of fuscia blossoms
that covered that little section of sandstone paving stones on that steep road in Burley
stones that were slick enough that you’d make sure not to wear smooth-soled shoes
on days when it had rained

‘Let’s fall asleep to radio static and the sound of each other breathing’
I said, somewhat pretentiously
and the dog huffed loudly from somewhere under the duvet
I don’t know whether she was displaying displeasure with my affectation, or signalling concurrence
or completely ignorant of the meaning of my words

In the morning I briefly wondered
whether the smell of coffee brewing
was the dog’s signal to come downstairs
‘Magical thinking’ is hard to define
being any belief in a causality which the critic considers illogical