Whose arc, Joan?

It was an inside morning,
I worked the puzzle until 
the deer let me know 
I should stop.
The dog said:
"I need to go
hunt voles
and stuff my nostrils
with sweet snow."
When did the day
get its horns?
I ask questions 
and never answer
the phone.
What would Joan Didion do?
Win a contest and get famous.
Good move, I'll take my turn
closer to the short canine hairs
that clung to the top of the vacuum cleaner
as I played that terrifying instrument
to pass what qualifies as an afternoon.