Monday, December 27, 2004

a new poem still in its embryonic stages--

The Discount Afterlife

The dogs that eat us so sweetly
are telling us they love us the only
way they know how

with their tongues

we are beyond choke chains here
beyond leashes
beyond spilt garbage cans
accidents on Mom's best sofa

beyond chasing a squirrel to the middle
of the street beyond apologies
with tented sensitive brows for biting
the neighbor's boy as he held a tennis ball
just out of reach

beyond standing at their shoulders
as they strain forward we are
underneath now

it is slow this kind of loving
death it is the kind God reserves
for angels

you can see it as they lick their dripping
chins the sentient and caressing tongues
we are their angels

and we taste like presents like the ripping
open of presents to them


any and all comments welcomed -- spelling mistakes pointed out, hate mail, insults from PETA, etc.

1 comment:

Michael said...

LOL - that is what I call - being open.

I'll have to read this a couple more times - then perhaps comment. :)