That overturned jug, thankfully plastic made
or there would be crushed glass, maybe
shattered porcelain, to deal with.
Drips tumble from counter-top and pool
at the feet of pushed back stool,
cat and dog barking miaowing a concert
in the other room, fight to the death
it sounds like, as I wipe forehead
with grimace.
Can they just, for one brief moment in
this short life, leave each other be?
Can we spend a day in harmony
rather than our chaotic clashes
that seem to tear this house asunder?
Perhaps I am to blame, for I chose
their company at simultaneous
lines, their parallel personage
entirely out of their paws
yet I still clean their fallout.