DOG PARTS.

ELEANOR HAZARD.

1. dead dog in empty parking lot. blacking its skin in the sludgy shit of the last thing it thought. before it was made into something that happens to someone. it is a hole that you kneel beside. when you think it should be nearly dark out and it turns out to be true. there's a tunnel in the dead dog's side. and you know you shouldn't feel so fucking frightened. but it's all you can do just to look at its face. so ugly and knotted. and all clogged up. you wish that you had ever felt so peaceful as a dead dog in an empty parking lot. yr not sure if it's sad because you haven't. or sad because it's not sad that you haven't.

2. you tell yrself yr going to put yr hand into a dead dog's mouth. because it's something that you can't just up and spring on someone. every day is plus another dead dog. some of them will have yr name. most of them will have yr eyes. and bits and pieces of yr happy voice. it's been years. and you have never heard them screaming. it's been years and you have only found this one dead dog. groping through stilettos in the gullet. down its slope. to slip yr hand around the white imperfect stone that all dogs keep inside their stomach walls. to speak their sadness to. it's dry and bloody when you pull it out and let it know how old you are.

3. you hope every dog you've never met will never have a name. maybe that's where we went wrong. condensing galaxies and storm clouds into ‘janice’. or like. ‘lisa’.

4. lay down yr head at the mouth of the tunnel. how much money would it take for you to slip yrself inside. to be almost comfortable in a shirt run wet with stains. you know you wouldn't ever. but yr lying to yrself to keep you warm. while yr so far from home.

5. every time you try to sleep the barking hits you hard. picking up the dog pack sounds from somewhere underground. filtered slowly through the crusting of the parking lot. it sounds like they're all having so much fun being torn apart. and the white imperfect stone yr holding now grows very sad. so many bristling canines there beneath you. and yr not even trying. there's no point in camping out if yr just going to go to sleep.

6. you dream that you are looking for some dogs who may or may not be deceased. and who are growing tiny hairs. beneath the dirt. and the very thin layer of pennies. in yr dream you are not dreaming at all. but scared to death of finding them. of touching all the mountainous terrain along their dull paw pads. in case it means that you feel absolutely nothing. just as you suspected all along

7. CaUTION. CaUTION. WILD DOGs IN SuBWAY. AnD WE RLY DoN'T ADvISE ENGAGING ThEM In COnVERsATiON. YoU MAY ThINK THaT YOU ArE InTEREsTING aND FuN TO BE ARoUND. YOu MaY tHINK ThAT YOU HAvE

BEEN AROUND THE BLOCK

BECaUSE Yr FRIENd SHOwED yOU THAT aLTERNATE DIMENsION THAT ONe TiME. bUT IT WiLL nOT Be ENOUGh. AND tHE DOgS WILL EaT YoU wHOLE. THE DOGS WILL ALWAYS ALWAYS EAT YOU WHOLE. bUT If YOU THInK tHAT yOU KnOW BeTTER. bY aLL MEANs. bE INSIDE ThE SUbWAY. TRuST IN HORRIbLE THiNGS. BECAUSE WHAt dO WE KNoW rLY. wE ArE JuST A SERIeS Of UNfATHOMaBLE SIgNS. THAt NO oNE wILL ADMIt To PUTTiNG uP.

8. there's no one in the subway. but the wildlife's being cautious nonetheless. you sense the furry things along the walls. but make an effort not to stare at all their smells. you are walking in a jumbled pile of lines along the subway tracks. and thinking of a soundtrack. you are listening to the howls as they pass you in the dark. what they sing about. an open book. or hint of snow. you cannot know. and will not understand. hear yr name from inside the dark forest in the tunnel just behind you. let it tickle at yr hair and then abandon it. you are taller than a tree inside the subway. you are following the sounds.

9. in yr dream you come upon a hill inside the subway. the subway tracks, they grin atop the scalp. you haven't even started up the ladder made of nail heads yet. but yr already reminded of this book you read. in which you hated everything.

10. climbing up inside a subway feels as fucked up as you thought it would. but you don't stop doing it. you hear the dogs while they are somewhere you are not.

11. yr always thinking of a person that you've never met. and how much fun they'd have by spending time with you. doing whatever it is yr doing by yrself at that exact moment.

12. there's dirt in the canyons of yr knees. yr blood is knocking at the linings of yr body. with an agonizing urge to be outside. yr favorite jeans have smudgy cheeks. they're so tired of being the favorite. you decided on yr way to where you are that you wish yr voice was someone else's voice. but yr still not sure whose voice you'd rather have. it's kind of killing you inside. but even still you realize that yr feet have kissed the rooftop of the hill. and it's warmer than you thought. and how even underground there is a wind. and the subway tracks are melting you away a little bit. and you don't even rly care because of all the filthy dogs you see from so high up.

13. in yr dream you are sprinting down the hill. calling danger by its real name. and yr hoping you don't trip and fall. you hope you don't do anything embarrassing in front of the invisible black birds you know are always watching. and yr turning into streaks of colored paint. arms confessing that they've always loved to travel. running straight toward a million dogs and yelling here i am. i am here and i am not like you. but i think it's probably wonderful that we exist. and as you do these things you hope that you remember. and the last thing that you see is forty million pointed teeth.

14. you wake up in the middle of the night. having swallowed up a white imperfect stone while you were sleeping. you know that you are different. like you know the sun is going to die. and you can't remember why. but it is late. the dead dog in the empty parking lot is not enough to stop you drifting off again.