surprise me
and a new groomer turned my westie into rat terrier.
consistency would be a comfort i could sink into like a coffin.
living makes me anxious; a series of openings to strangeness and bad haircuts.
i am inclined to sit tight, wearing a groove in my gray sweatpants.
but those are my fingers, shaking the cage,
not asking for trouble, but inviting it.
surprise me.