I am setting up a spreadsheet
so that I can track the vet bills
and record the weekly payments
of the man whose pet
attacked and killed my dog.
I am working out the interest
on the credit card
for fifty-seven hundred dollars
so that I can calculate his balance
and be sure he pays his due.
I am writing up a form
for the receipts that I will issue
after each three hundred-dollars
that he sends.
I feel like I am grieving
in a hundred little
bureaucratic ways.
