Up earlier than usual,
I take Heidi for a walk.

The world is vacant,
we had it to ourselves.

We walked a familiar street,
up the hill we know so well.

Stairs lead
to the street
that takes us to
our private park.

Placed in a pocket,
jammed into the let, and
cupped into the palm
of the hand,
the park is ours.

Heidi squatted,
like she does,
the park was, you see
also her bathroom.

So, with a bag,
I go to pick it up
(a dog owner's main objective)
when I'm shocked,
no wait, stung
by a bee.

Shot like a shotgun,
the bee got me
behind the ear.

I felt it
before I say it:

Fuck me.

I swat
and spin around,
and come
face to wrist
with the accomplice.

Black and gold and,
Is it dead?
I knock it off.
It hurts, oh it still hurts.

I looked down
and notice
another shade of gold,
a yellow, turd-like finger,
a slow moving,
Banana Slug.