He winds through the wind broken woods a wagging wanderer, leaping, like lumberjack in a Canadian tuxedo splitting the space on all fours legs of two-by-fours, kilned hard, He searches the timber tall and fallen like a beaver doing dam work skids out a snag like a tracked Cat blowing diesel with turning haunches, hauls…
Curtains
Bedouin of the summer sheikh camped upon the air conditioner cooling your richness a fur coat your plumage your reign a desert trek a scalding deck panting sweating tongues salt upon your nose prints draped crown keffiyeh blessed be your eyes following hope leader of our tribe. ∞ Submitted as part of “National/Global Poetry…
The Story of a Dog
This is the story of a dog Leo’s body — pressed against my soul My heart beats — with each smile Eyes that melt into my own I fetch your gaze — fixed upon a tree I lap at the innocence of the world As I join you in staring at a squirrel Days slow…
Your Tail Curls Me Round
A morning bed, a head that yearns Makes my back burn With your body that yearns Makes my back, makes my back burn Your panting a daily reprise My awakening you baptize And your panting a daily reprise Keeps me alive, keeps me alive You curled Oh, the world curls around Your tail unfurled around,…
Enter Leo
You are a master criminal a canine thief you’ve stolen the rug under my feet once steady in grief memories you’ve rappelled burgled my bed cunningly chewed through a rawhide safe camouflaged yourself in dirt vandalising my garden my chair my everywhere entwined you in me two…
Pops
Wrapped in grey overcast the sweet wind of spring clad in the sallow thatch spun upon the air puppy feet a naked belly my one my only holds my shoulders with calm against a conspiracy of idiocy of sit and stay closing eyes diving into…
Again
You are here today Again now upon my lap my hands in you when you passed into a tomorrow today yesterday is Again born into a day birthday candles extinguished with a spark a bark peals back the dark your face printed on your name you awake the silence with a look a belly rub…
Outdoors
I’m carried — we’re carried, nine of us, one by one — in a nurturing arm 13 and half paces from front door to a wrap-around porch from four weeks, three days and a piece of remnant carpet and the 2×6 walls of fir the box of our birth to a confined space of black…