Reality TV

I’m thinking my life should be reality TV.
I’d call it “Dogs Are Sweet But Expensive”.
No, “Wives Are Sour But Expensive.”
Maybe, “Single Was Lonely but Quiet”.

My wife will kill me when she sees this.
Wait. A cranky guy shot by a bitchy relative?
Wasn’t that one season of “Dallas”?
I may need to work on the concept.

I guess “working on the concept”
May be against the idea of reality.
We would turn on the cameras,
Then, see what happens next.

Here’s episode one as shot.
“What kind of dog is … I’m bleeding!”
We forgot Katie doesn’t like strangers.
They quickly stopped filming.

They hadn’t even met the other dogs.
They hadn’t met my wife, either.
I was a bit afraid that she would bite.
I told her she was the star, just in case.

A new cameraman eventually arrived.
The, as the crew walked down the hall,
My wife rather gently asked that
They avoid some of the rooms.

Of course, she’s Brooklyn-Italian, so
For showing on network television,
It would have to play back as
” Not in there!”

The crew followed me on my way to work,
Which was an hour of ing and crying
Down a perpetually under construction road.
The only drama was the Lexi constantly weaving.

I’m thinking we’ll get canceled.
Real reality is not that interesting.

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