It takes compromise

I say to the rabbit

indignantly plunged to her tail

and swished round the bum

with warm water—

I’m holding her up by the pits

with her cheek to my cheek

singing songs with her name

like Ju-dy, whatcha gonna do-o

when you’re older

and no one wants to know ya—

she’s tired or wouldn’t allow this

or the towel or incompetent

blow-dry—she was fine

drenched in piss nodding off

with her face in her bowl—

now she’s cold and distressing

her heart, its slight murmur

awhir in my palm—

when I free her she runs

for the burrow, a box

with escapes on two sides