Robby Nadler

the chocolate lab

jesus watched
from the eyes of a chocolate lab
the two of us
trying to have sex
the crucifix you positioned over the lintel blurred
barrels and ledge each time my face
choked the sheets
your ass sometimes coming
into view
like a planet just arising

i said i can’t get it up with a dog
circling the bed because he could smell the act
before we could commit it
the pre-sweat odors of master and thing
launching him as a rocket around the bedroom

so i lay there like wood
like the fog over a button island
letting your dick carve your name
inside my confused guts
the dog stopped at one point
front legs pressed on the mattress ready to mount
pretending he was you
or maybe the other way around

the owner now a thing of the thing that bursts light
from the scattered clouds
his eyes were palindromes
the middle unnecessary
because it was both the before and the after you pulled out of me
that were the same
that remained the biggest mystery
and jesus is the answer to all questions
that no body asked

Robby Nadler is a baker for Le Petit Outre in Missoula, Montana. Once he got a default rejection from The Paris Review, and, like the girl who got punched in the face by Regina George in Mean Girls, it was awesome.
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