the bear

I was walking my dog the other day when, on return, we found the bear, sleeping in our living room

I put on a record, I poked the bear

“You can tell Jane if she calls, I’m famous now for all of these rock and roll songs. And even if that’s a lie, she should’ve given me a try.”, the record sang

“Don’t poke me”, the bear hissed
“I didn’t poke you”, I said
“You poked me”, the bear whimpered
“I didn’t poke you”, I said, “stop whimpering. Also, bears don’t hiss”

I laid down on the rug, lit a cigarette and watched the smoke curl and twist and disappear and reappear and dissolve

into nothing