The Critic

I have this habit,
it is placing printed pages
on the floor.
I will sort through numerous
poems and stories
and put them in piles,
good in one pile
and bad in the next.

My dog came in to say hi.
I pet her behind the ear
and she walked out of the room.
I went back to review my work.
A poem that I couldn’t bring myself
to like,
went into the good pile anyway.

The next four went into the bad pile.
At that time I went to the bathroom.
When I came back,
I noticed a big yellow puddle
on the poem I placed in the good pile.

I didn’t know my dog could read.

Needless to say,
the poem went immediately into
the bad pile.

©Copyright 2013 by Kurt Rees.
All rights reserved


24 thoughts on “The Critic

  1. It seems like you both wanted to use the bathroom and the same time, ha ha ha ha. You should keep your pile of poems somewhere safe and out of doggy’s way. We don’t want all the workings of a genius destroyed now, do we?

  2. Bwah ha ha ha! I have a poodle and on rare occasion we forget to take her out; that’s when my poodle leaves me a puddle! 🙂

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